Hunger Games Outtakes
by Hoprocker
Summary: Excerpts from a trio of unforgettable Hunger Games: The Disastrous 42nd, Fire and Ice, the 43rd, and the 44th, which actually has yet to be written. Includes deleted scenes, AUs, and more, but most of it is just for laughs! To those that know, love, and dreadfully miss their favorite characters, enjoy this extra fanservice.
1. Hip's Reaping

**Woohoo it's Outtake time! Hopefully this will keep me from springing right onto the 44th Games because I still need to focus on my studies. Also FYI this is rated comedy so don't take anything in this seriously, except perhaps this first chapter. Finally, we get to see Hip's Reaping! Only I changed his outfit. Either way, this is totally canon. **

**If you're here by chance, Hip is my character in the 42****nd**** Hunger Games I wrote. I never gave him a full blown Reaping because Channa's was so long. Enjoy!**

"—so I walked out, like I was leaving, right, but then I went back in and they were standing there talking about me! And my own sister was like, 'Lillie has issues,' and I was like, 'O-M-G, no you didn't, gurl!' And I was totes ready for a catfight, but then the teacher came back in and he assigned us the most boring homework _ever_." Lillie groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Fascinating." Hip replied, staring intently at his chocolate milkshake as he stirred it with a straw.

"I know, right?" Lillie sighed, snatching up her milkshake and taking a sip. "Hey! This is vanilla. I asked for chocolate!" She slammed the glass down and looked around furiously, as if she were going to make a scene.

"Lillie…" Hip said, putting on his most innocent expression and taking her hands in his own. She immediately softened up and turned to look at him. Hip widened his amber eyes ever so slightly, using his God-given power to melt girls' hearts with them. "Lillie, I've been wanting to talk to you about something…"

"What is it?" She asked softly, her face full of curiosity.

"It's about the Reaping." Hip said, "I'm going to volunteer this year."

Lillie wrenched her hands away, looking shocked. "Wh-what?!" She stammered, "No! You can't! You're only 15…besides, one of the older boys is going to volunteer!"

"Doesn't matter," Hip smirked, nonchalantly sipping from his straw, "This is my year."

"But what about me?" Lillie wailed.

Hip arched an eyebrow. "What about you?"

The poor girl just stared at him, at a loss for words. "I…I'm your girlfriend!"

"I don't have a girlfriend." Hip stated, looking at Lillie's untouched milkshake, "Are you gonna drink that?"

Lillie just gaped at him. Then her features screwed up with rage as she realized what was happening. "Is this supposed to be some sort of breakup?!"

"Maybe," Hip shrugged, reaching over and taking her milkshake anyways.

"How could you! You jerk!" Lillie was so angry that her face was beginning to turn red.

Hip pretended to look hurt. "If you're gonna insult me, then I'm outta here." He said, rising to his feet and starting towards the door.

"Wait, no!" His now ex girlfriend shrieked, knocking over her chair in her haste to grab his arm. "Please don't do this, Hip. I love you!" She confessed, tears gathering in her eyes. "I...I've always loved you!"

"Hey, I don't blame you." Hip said, gently wriggling out of her grasp and giving her a pat on the head, "But you've known me about a week. Give or take a few days—I don't really know, I haven't been counting."

Lillie had started sobbing so loud that his words could barely be heard. Everyone in the shop was looking at them. _Time to go, _Hip thought, looking around awkwardly. He gave Lillie a lopsided smirk, then made his escape as fast as possible. (cue Runaway Baby)

He hurried to the town square, where a few people were already hanging about, preparing for the Reaping. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for his best friend. He wanted to relay what had just happened to him. Breakups always warranted a dramatic retelling and a good laugh.

"Hip!" A banshee-like scream filled the air.

"Shoot." Hip mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. Lillie had come barreling out of the shop and was coming straight for him. She was barefoot, having kicked off her high heels and left them lying in the road. Uh-oh. She was out for blood. "Help, help, my crazy ex girlfriend's trying to murder me!" Hip shouted, turning and sprinting in the opposite direction.

He heard a sarcastic voice say, "Again? That kid is always being chased by…"

The voice faded away as Hip ran straight for a narrow alley. He zipped around corners, agile and light on his feet. Confidence welled up from within him. There was no way Lillie could catch him. He was a victor of the Hunger Games! Well, not really, but he'd get there eventually.

Hip made it home in one piece, panting as he came through the door to his house. Rhutter was already inside with his parents (aka, Hip's aunt and uncle), the three of them dressed up and ready to head to the Reaping.

"Dude…what happened?" Rhutter asked, wide-eyed.

"Same old, same old…" Hip said, headed for his room, "I'm going to take a shower."

"Just don't be late for the Reaping!" His aunt chided.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" He called back, grinning. He couldn't wait to see the look on their faces when he volunteered. Hip stripped off his clothes and took a quick shower. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and admired his six-pack in the mirror for a few minutes. _Aw yeah...molded to perfection. _He thought, patting it. He curled his arms and struck a pose, admiring the toned body he would be taking with him to the Games. Strength, speed, and good looks. He had it all. Then he remembered he was running late and threw on black, long-sleeved shirt. He was tempted to leave it open, but he forced himself to button it up.

Still, something was missing…ah! He popped the collar for extra swag. Then he ran a hand through his messy, dark hair and winked at his handsome reflection. Now he was ready to go. His white, fluffy cat came prancing up to him just as he was headed out the door. He couldn't help but spend five more minutes fussing over his precious kitty.

"Oh, Puff, you're such a handsome boy! Yes you are!" He cooed, snatching up the huge cat and kissing him on his little pink nose. "I'm gonna miss you so much. Hold down the fort while I'm gone, okay buddy?"

"Mew." Came Puff's reassuring response.

Hip rushed out the door and ran to the Reaping, making it just in time to sign in. The woman taking blood samples glared at him. "You're the last one." She growled, pricking his finger.

"No kidding!" Hip said breathlessly, "Couldn't have figured that one out myself." Then he went to take his place among the 15-year olds. He found a spot in front of Rhutter, who was almost a year older than him. Rhutter had been checking out the girls across from him, but he perked up when he saw Hip.

They exchanged a silent high-five, then turned their attention to the stage, waiting for the magical moment in which the escort would draw names.

Finally, it came. Of course she headed for the girls' bowl first. Hip watched, mildly amused, as some airheaded floozy went and volunteered for herself. She ran to the stage in high heels and started making some stupid speech about how _she _was the one who would make District 1 proud. Yeah, right.

Hip gritted his teeth in frustration, just wanting to get this over with.

He praised the lord when the escort took the microphone away from her. Finally, it was time.

"Lee Poplar!" The escort announced.

"I volunteer!" Hip shouted in a confident voice. He shoved his way through the other 15-year olds, trying to get clear of the crowd.

"Watch it, mongrel!" One snarled as Hip excitedly pushed him aside. He paid him no mind.

Hip stepped out of the crowd, smirking, as the Peacekeepers came to retrieve him. He could see Rhutter giving him thumbs up. Then—

"Wait! He can't volunteer! I've been training for this my whole life and this is my last year to compete!"

Hip rolled his eyes as some ugly freak that was nowhere near as hot as him came jogging up. But the escort said something about Hip having to relinquish the position to him, and a triumphant smile stretched across his face.

The older boy was extremely tall and muscular, but Hip wasn't intimidated. He was probably an idiot. "You're only 15. You can enter the Games another year. Let me do it." The boy growled in a deep voice, "Besides, you know very well that I called dibs on it at the academy."

_Just what the hell is a dib? _Hip snorted inwardly, _is it the most powerful force in the universe? Do I have to bend to your will, just because you called it? Well I don't think so, buddy… _

"Oh, I didn't realize that you had called _dibs _on it. Well, excuse me for trampling all over your sacred dibs, but _I'm _going to be District 1's male tribute this year. Not you. Maybe if you'd been quicker to actually volunteer instead of being so concerned with your precious—"

Hip had been so preoccupied with zinging this guy that he didn't see him wind up for a punch until the fist came smashing into his mouth. He stumbled backwards, his hands flying to his aching jaw. His eyes widened with shock as he felt blood on his lip.

But the Peacekeepers were already dragging the older boy away. Hip turned and went to the stage by himself. His lip was throbbing, but the excitement that pulsed in his heart quickly made him forget about it.

"What's your name?" The escort asked, holding the microphone out to him.

"Hip Hoprock," He declared, puffing out his chest.

"Wonderful! Shake hands, you two."

Hip turned to the girl they called Channa. She was looking at his bloodstained hand with revulsion. He flashed her a lopsided grin, just daring her to take it.

To his surprise, she did. She gripped his hand firmly and shook it.

Feeling mischievous, Hip brushed a finger on her wrist, performing what was known as an awkward handshake. Channa flinched and wrenched her hand away. Hip just smirked, loving the fact that he had just made her lose her cool on TV. She was pretty hot—but she was still his competitor.

A shame that she would be dead by the time his birthday came around.

**God, this makes me miss Hip. He was so fun to write. ILY Hip. Rest in peace, buddy.**

**Holding off putting up the 44th Hunger Games is slowly killing me...so I've decided I'm gonna put up the first chapter when this semester is over and Christmas vacation begins. During the spring I can devote most of my time to planning and slowly put up the Reapings...then when summer begins, I can hit it hard. Yeah. So to those of you that were like "oh no, we have to wait till next summer?!" the time has just been spliced in half. :P  
**


	2. Life Saving Sponsors

**Okay, some of the sponsors I received were pretty funny. This and the next chapter are going to poke some fun at them. Dedicated to the people that sponsored these items, of course.**

**Saffron was one of the most sponsored characters, but he didn't receive a single one because I deemed all of the gifts unworthy. Now, you get to see what the lovely citizens of the Capitol would have given him, had there been no censor…**

**Don't read this is you don't want to see me poking fun at his death.  
**

After being shot in the chest by the mongrel known as Kalin, Saffron made his escape to the ice side. He stumbled along, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He was aiming to return to camp and try to heal his wound. But he quickly became lost in a white fog of falling snow, feeling weaker with each passing minute.

Finally, he pitched forward, laying face down in the cold powder. A feeling of despair washed over him as he realized that he had lost the Hunger Games. He closed his eyes, embracing his death. As he did so, his mind drifted back to District 1. Father. What would he think…?

Saffron lifted his head, wondering if he should forge on. Father would not approve of him giving up like this. A pure-blooded Le Bel would fight against all odds! Saffron struggled to get up. That was when he spotted the blurred shape of the parachute drifting down from the heavens. He could practically hear a chorus of angels singing as it touched down a few feet in front of him.

The Career dragged himself through the snow, clenching his teeth at the sheer effort of it. Some kind-hearted peasant had taken pity on Saffron and sent him a life-saving gift! Perhaps it was matches, or maybe even wound-healing medicine…the possibilities were endless. But whatever it was, he knew one thing was for sure: he was saved.

Saffron pried the container open. Just as he did so, something white burst out and shot away, straight up into the sky. Saffron just lay there, stunned. A few white feathers fluttered down and settled on his hands.

_A…dove? _He realized.

"Very funny, Sage!" He snarled, believing that this was sent by his brother to taunt him about the loss of his pets. He blinked back tears, for he still felt anguished at the thought of them.

A few seconds later, another parachute came floating down and settled a few _more _feet in front of him. Giving a frustrated sigh, but unable to resist the temptation, Saffron once again dragged his body across the ground to retrieve it. He gave a sharp cry of pain as the arrow in his chest dug a little deeper. But he snatched the parachute off the ground and opened that one too.

Luckily, nothing flew out this time.

Saffron reached in and took out a strange object that looked like a whistle. "What is this?" He said, looking at it blankly.

He pulled out a note from Channa that read, _It's a dove whistle, stupid._

Scowling, Saffron brought it to his lips and blew. Then he waited. A minute passed. Another minute. _Not getting any younger here… _Saffron growled inwardly, looking at the bloodstained snow around his body.

The dove never showed.

"Curses…" Saffron muttered, resuming his facedown position of defeat.

He closed his eyes and was about to go back to accepting his frigid fate when something came crashing down a few yards away with a loud, jumbled chord. It was a piano!

Saffron just stared at it furiously, at a loss for words. He spluttered a bit of profanity, then managed to exclaim, "Oh! A piano! Well let me go right on over and play that with _my frostbitten fingers_!" He flung up his hands, revealing that they were turning blue.

In response, a metronome floated down and landed perfectly on top of the piano. It began clicking away at a steady beat. Saffron clutched his hands to his ears and gave a roar of frustration. The constant clicking quickly drove him insane.

"I do not need a metronome to play the piano!" He cried out, "Please take it back! Have mercy!" He buried himself in the snow, but the terrible sound continued on and on without stopping. _An insult! _He thought furiously, _Metronomes are for novices! My skills are far __superior!_

He could feel himself losing his grip on sanity. Luckily for him, the cold snow and loss of blood caught up to him. Soon, he had passed out.

Saffron had thought he had escaped the foul metronome and sweetly embraced death, but a while later, he was woken by Angela. She was leaning over him, the tip of her blade pressed against his bloody chest. As soon as Saffron claimed his consciousness, the annoying ticking sound once again obscured his thoughts.

Thankfully, Angela was here to put him out of his misery.

But then, for some reason, she drew back and tucked away the knife. Then she stood up as if to leave.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Saffron said, going wide-eyed.

She glanced at him, and turned to walk away. He reached out and grabbed her ankle, mustering all of the strength he could to hold on.

"Kill me, I beg of you!" He wailed, "Or at least turn that thing off!"

Angela looked over at the piano, "Uhh, sorry, I don't play piano…"

"Listen, I am not requesting that you play me a lullaby! Just turn the metronome off! _Please!_"

"What's a metronome?" She asked, confused.

"You fool!" Saffron snarled.

Angela narrowed her eyes. "You're just _asking _to be killed, aren't you…"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I am!" Saffron exclaimed, pointing at his wound, "Now just get it over with!"

Angela's features grew sad. "I'm sorry." She said quickly, wrenching away from him and making a break for it.

"No, no! Get back here! I command you! MONNNGREEEELLLL!" Saffron tried to get up and chase after her, but he couldn't. So he just wriggled around pathetically in the snow, pounding his fists, snarling insults at random.

Finally, he fell still. He tried to get back to dying, but it was very hard to do it with the sound of the metronome going on and on and on…

Just as he was wondering if he were going to be stuck here the rest of his life, there was a soft flutter of wings. Saffron looked up to see the dove had returned and was perching on his frozen hand, cocking its head at him. A wry smile creased his lips.

"…I don't suppose you'd be interested in ending my suffering?"

**I'm gonna drop hints about the 44th at the end of each chapter for fun because I like to torture you guys-err I mean...I like reading about how excited you are. Because I'm excited too. Yeah. Anyways...**

**Something Kalin said inspired the Head Gamemaker and led her to create a theme for the 44th arena.**

**It's an awesome one, by the way. I'd say it's on par with the 42nd, but it's up to you guys to decide which one you like better. BTW go to my profile to vote on my latest poll. And read the little note at the top if you're planning on submitting a character.  
**


	3. The Mask of Zane

**Here's another 'sponsor' chapter. Honestly, I don't know how I would've integrated this gift into the Games and kept things serious. **

While keeping to the shadows of the fire side, Hapi had spotted what could only be considered as a blessing: an injured Career. This could only mean that the team of bloodthirsty tributes had dispersed. Hapi followed the boy at a distance with Keata by his side. It was incredibly easy to track the trail of blood he had left on the rocky terrain, with their combined skill.

Finally, the Career collapsed facedown. Hapi crouched down and watched him for a few minutes, waiting to see if he would get back up. He didn't.

After waiting a few more minutes, he and Keata cautiously approached the dying teenager. He observed the face carefully, trying to remember the boy's name. He sorted through each interview, recognizing him as the District 2 Career. Zane, was it? Unconcerned with whether or not that was correct, Hapi whipped out a knife.

"Keata!" He growled softly, as she thrust her nose into Zane's side and started lapping at his blood, "Stop that!" She ignored him.

He could hear a rattled wheeze emanating from Zane's lungs. He would put him out of his misery, just as he did to Tiger-Lilly. Hapi kneeled down and gently pushed Keata aside. She growled lightly and slunk away. But as Hapi bent over Zane's body and pressed the blade to the back of the boy's neck, something within him told him to wait. He could use this tribute to his advantage. With Zane on his side, he wouldn't have to endure any more sleepless nights filled with paranoia. He would be able to take on the other alliances.

"…Ah, screw it." Hapi muttered, slicing Zane's neck. The cannon rang and the hovercraft materialized a few moments later. Hapi had to drag Keata away from the corpse, much to her disappointment.

They watched Zane's body disappear among the clouds. Then they continued on their way.

Not even a minute later, a parachute came floating down. Hapi felt a thrill of delight. This was his reward for his success! He sat down to open it. Keata clambered on top of him, eager to examine this strange contraption. Silently hoping for water, Hapi pried it open. Instead, a very strange sight greeted him.

"What the…" Hapi reached inside and pulled out a strange-looking mask that somewhat resembled Zane's face. Only instead of eyes and a mouth, it had three gaping holes. Feeling seriously creeped out, Hapi turned to Keata and asked, "What am I supposed to do with _this_?"

Keata gave a large yawn, unimpressed.

Unsure of what else he _could _do, Hapi put it on. Keata's lip curled and a deep growl rumbled in her throat. Hapi stood up slowly, for his visibility was rather poor. With his arms in front of him, he took a few cautious steps, trying to get used to the mask on his face. Keata snapped at his ankles.

"Hey!" He chastised, but before he could do anything, she whipped around and took off. He didn't bother chasing her, knowing she would return, just as she always did. Besides, he wanted to try and hunt down other tributes, and he didn't want her to be with him in case a fight broke out.

Deciding that he needed a drink first, Hapi made his way towards the ice side. Once there, he located a fresh patch of snow and drank heartily, letting it melt in his mouth. The entire time, he kept thinking of how to use the mask.

Then, he was presented with a brilliant idea.

Chuckling, he slipped the mask on and began looking for the remaining Careers. It wasn't too hard to find them. He just had to follow the sound of the piano.

"Saffron, do you think it's wise to be playing your piano in our current situation?" Ravish growled, looking annoyed, "I mean, let's just hang up a sign that says, 'we're over here! Come kill us!' while we're at it."

"Okay, you may do so if you wish, but I must practice some more." Saffron mumbled, intently focused on the keys at his fingertips.

Ravish rolled her eyes and began to turn away. That was when she spotted Hapi as he crept into their secluded camp. "Zane!" She exclaimed.

Saffron gave a dramatic sigh; abruptly cutting off the song he was playing. "Honestly, Blackwell, must you be so insufferably loud? I can't concentrate."

"Shut up and grab your sword!" She snapped, "Zane's here!"

Hapi just stood there, wondering what to do. "Wait!" He said, throwing up his hands, thinking fast. He tried to speak in a deep voice that resembled Zane's. He puffed out his chest too, trying to look more like an arrogant Career. "Err…I want to reform the Career alliance."

Both Careers narrowed their eyes disbelievingly. Saffron was especially looking suspicious. Perhaps it was because Zane had become scrawnier since their last encounter, or maybe it was because his voice had changed. He approached Hapi cautiously and circled him. Hapi remained motionless, ready to whip out a knife at the slightest hint of an attack.

"…What happened to the wound you sustained, Ronan?" He asked, pointing his sword at Hapi's uninjured stomach.

"It got better." Hapi mumbled.

"And where's your sword?"

Hapi shrugged. "Lost it. But I managed to snatch some knives off a corpse." He opened up his vest, revealing the set of daggers he possessed.

Saffron's eyebrows lifted in surprise. A small smirk slid across Ravish's face. "Who kicked the bucket?" She asked, remembering the cannon that had sounded not too long ago.

"The Asian." Hapi said, casting a glance towards Saffron.

Saffron grinned evilly. "Well done, Ronan. That disgusting half-breed got what was coming to him."

"You're more disgusting than I am." Hapi growled.

"What was that?"

"He's more disgusting than anyone in Panem." Hapi recovered smoothly, but mumbled a quiet, "Filthy aristocrat," Under his breath.

Ravish folded her arms, looking pleased. "Okay, Zane, you're back on the team for now. We should try to kill a few more tributes before we disband again, right?"

"Speak for yourself." Saffron said disdainfully.

Hapi felt a sense of victory well up from within. And it was all thanks to the greatest sponsor gift he could have hoped to receive. A gift that had turned him into something he was not; a gift that had opened up endless amount of possibilities and would help him go on to win the Hunger Games.

The Mask of Zane.

**/snort/ Sorry, this chapter was so ridiculous, wasn't it? I love how it's serious right up until the part he says, "ah, screw it." And then everything stops making sense. OH! I guess you want to hear another hint, huh?**

**There will be a chapter in place of the now-cancelled ball. Though it's nothing special, just more character development.**

**That's all I got. Next outtake is from the 42****nd and it's one of my favorites****!**


	4. On the Air With Mitch

**I think this is one of the best chapters yet! It was so fun to write and kind of heartwarming. Some characters are not included (the injured D2 Careers, the alliance of three that just sit in a building all day, and everyone else who is dead). Enjoy!**

It was one of the hottest days in the arena thus far.

Armed with his radio and his coconut, Mitch decided that he would take a nice trip to the beach. Walking at a leisurely pace, he headed on down to the thin strip of sand that separated the boardwalk from the water. Once there, he kicked his shoes off and stepped down, wriggling his toes with delight. Then he found a nice spot where he could lean against one of the poles that held up the boardwalk. He settled down and turned on his radio.

Deciding that he would listen to something other than jazz for once, he started flipping through the stations.

"_Looks like Bridon Jakkels will be remaining in camp while his allies go out for a hunt. Folks, we might be in for quite the show, if they come across the recently wounded Sienna! Meanwhile, Chat—"_

Click.

"_And I was like, baby, baby, baby, ooh!"_

Click.

"_Mitchell Anthony?"_

Click.

"—_for your latest Hunger Games fashion! Mohawks, fake scars, stick-on six packs—"_

Blinking, Mitch realized that he had heard the radio say his name. He flipped back to the previous station and heard it again.

"_Mitchell Anthony? …Yes, I think we got him! Mr. Anthony, are you there?"_

"I prefer Mitch." Mitch said faintly, wondering if this was real. Were radios supposed to talk to you?

"_Well congratulations, Mitch! You're officially on the air of CAP 101! How does it feel?"_

"…Good, I guess." Mitch shrugged. Hesitantly, he realized that this was just some random station. Whoever was running it had been trying to get ahold of him as he changed stations. And with him being broadcasted all over Panem, it was the opportune moment for an interview.

That meant the radio hadn't come alive after all. Mitch couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed.

"_This is going to make our ratings soar like you wouldn't believe!" _The radio host declared, sounding giddy, _"Mitch, would you be against doing an interview with us? We'll even set up a line of callers and you'll get to answer all sorts of questions. It'll be a blast, I promise."_

"…But I'm in the Hunger Games." He said, frowning as he thought it over. "Oh well. I guess I haven't really been an active participant anyways. Let's do it."

"_Yes! Thanks a billion! We can stop whenever you tire of answering questions. Or if you get killed. Ready?"_

Mitch nodded, knowing that they could see him. Hopefully nothing else of interest was going on right now, so that his fans could participate in his Q&A. As soon as it began, someone called in.

"_Hello? Mitch?"_

"Yes?" He inquired quite cheerfully.

"_Hey. So I was wondering, how do you manage to avoid all of the other tributes so well? Are you a ninja master or what?"_

"I don't know. I guess I'm just lucky." Mitch smiled. The next question came instantly, belonging to yet another fan of his.

"_Why don't you turn down the radio? Aren't you worried another tribute might find you? And why don't you listen to the station that follows what's happening in the Games?"_

Mitch pondered the first question, completely ignoring the second two. "I have bad hearing from blasting the radio at home…" He confessed, "Sorry." The next person was already on air before the prior caller could voice their questions once more.

"_Dude, Mitch, what is wrong with you? Are you stoned or something because it seems like you don't give a flying—"_

"Chat!" Mitch burst out suddenly, "Hey, it's Chat!"

He could see her in the distance, limping heavily along the shoreline. Mitch rose to his feet and started to give chase, calling, "Hi Chat!" Then he remembered his radio and ran back to grab it. The current caller was yelling at him to answer his question, but Mitch ignored him, eager to catch up with his district partner.

Upon his approach, Chat turned around and whipped out her knife. "Get out of here, Mitch," She threatened, "I don't want to have to kill my own district partner."

Mitch's eyes softened at the sight of her swollen ankle. "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

Chat sighed heavily and lowered the knife, remembering what a dweeb he was. He was no threat.

"_Hi Chat!" _A new voice called, slightly muffled in Mitch's hand, _"Hey, can I ask Chat a question?"_

Chat's eyes widened. "What the heck?"

Mitch held out his radio, smiling. "It was a sponsor gift. Wanna answer some questions from the viewers?"

Chat snorted. "Sure, why not? I'm not going anywhere." She lowered herself down into the sand, carefully positioning her ankle in front of her.

"_Are you and Hip an item?"_

Chat narrowed her eyes. "What the heck does _that _mean?" She growled.

"_Well, he spared your life and you danced with each other…" _The female voice continued, but Chat cut her off.

"Heck no, we're not an item! Why would I be so stupid as to get with someone like _him_?" She snarled, feeling incredibly irritated. _Seriously? That's the best question you could come up with? People in the Capitol are so shallow!_

Mitch tapped her shoulder.

"What?" She snapped a bit forcefully. The throbbing in her ankle was annoying her to no end.

Mitch's blue eyes were wide. "Look!" He pointed towards the surf.

A tanned girl with a ponytail was being dumped on shore by a large wave, not far from where they were sitting. A good-looking young man appeared a moment later and stood over her, dripping with saltwater.

"I'm never going in the water again!" Julia shrieked.

"You said that yesterday," was Frederick's faint reply. He looked around and spotted the District 6 pair sitting in the sand. At the same time, they saw the deadly trident clasped in his hand. Before the two parties could start fighting, Julia rose to her feet and shouted a cheerful greeting.

"Hi!" Mitch called back, giving them a warm smile.

Chat glared at him, hissing that they were dangerous, but he ignored her. The pair approached them; Julia looked friendly, while Frederick looked cautious. But they didn't appear to want a fight anymore than Mitch and Chat.

"What have you got there?" Frederick asked, looking at the crackling radio.

"_Oh my God, it's Frederick!" _The radio squealed, _"Freddy, are you single?"_

"Uh…yeah." He confirmed. Julia averted her eyes as her face began to redden.

"We're being interviewed!" Mitch said cheerfully, "Care to join us?"

"Okay!" Julia said happily, sitting across from him. Frederick sat between her and Chat and the four of them formed a circle.

"_This one's for Julia," _A monotone voice said, _"Why are you so afraid of water?"_

Julia's eyes narrowed. "What, am I not allowed to have a perpetual fear of something? I just am, okay?"

"_Chat—have you considered building some sort of elaborate trap for the Careers to fall into?"_

"I would if I had the materials. At least I already managed to wound that freak from District 2…"

"_Hey Frederick, how did you get that scar on your face?"_

"I've already answered this. I'm not saying it again."

"_Mitch, marry me?"_

"Okay, but I might be dead soon."

"What's going on here?" A new voice interrupted. The four of them gave a collective start and turned to see Hip looming over them from the boardwalk. His mace glinted in his hand. Channa came to stand up beside him, smiling menacingly. They were outnumbered, but even then, they weren't deterred…

Before a fight could break out, a large amount of squealing broke loose from the radio. It sounded like a bunch of preteen girls having a sleepover. A high-pitched voice shrieked, _"Oh my God, it's Hip! Oh my God, we're on the air! Quick, think of a question!"_

Hip's eyes widened curiously as the squealing died down and the radio began to speak directly to him.

"_Hi Hip, my name's Jules! My friends and me were wondering who you like…is it Channa? Or do you like Chat, or Julia? Oh! Or do you have a girlfriend back home? We need to know so we can draw fanart."_

Hip grinned mischievously. "Well…" He said slowly, "I think I like Jules."

The girls at the other end screamed so loudly that the radio was just a mess of crackling. Luckily, they were cut off and the next caller got online.

"_Channa, darling, you're absolutely fabulous. How DO you manage to keep yourself looking so impeccable, even during your time in the arena?"_

"Oh!" Channa gave a light laugh, flipping her hair as she did so, "That's so kind of you to say! It's all natural. I always look good, I don't even have to try."

Without being invited, she and Hip proceeded to force their way into the circle. Chat and Frederick held back their protests while Julia tried not to have a seizure due to the proximity of two incredibly handsome boys. Together, the six of them answered questions one by one, thoroughly enjoying one another's company. They laughed at the funny stories that followed clever questions and scorned those that were repeats. All of them encountered at least one proposal for marriage by some random stranger.

They were so absorbed in their newfound fame that they didn't notice Abbadon standing right over them. As soon as they did, their hands flew to grab their weapons. Then they rose to their feet, armed with sai, a mace, a trident, arnis sticks, a knife, and a radio, ready to attack at the first sign of a battle.

Abbadon just stood there, completely defenseless, looking at each tribute in turn. His face puckered in a small frown. "Uh…I wanted to answer questions too."

Mitch beamed at him. "Sure! Join the circle."

They all sunk back down into the sand, making room for Abbadon, who couldn't have looked happier. Mitch placed the radio at the center of their group and waited for the next question. But they could only hear the crackling of static.

"We're ready for the next question." Channa said impatiently, hoping it would be for her.

There was a long silence. Then a familiar voice came on. It was the host of the radio station, the very first person that had contacted Mitch. _"Uh…we seem to have hit a bit of a snag…I'm afraid there won't be any more questions…"_

"Why not?" Julia asked, looking disappointed.

"_Err…well, while our ratings have skyrocketed, the channel featuring the Hunger Games has fallen. Apparently, there's not enough killing and maiming going on. They threatened us to stop less than an hour ago, but we didn't heed their warning…" _He trailed off.

"So?" Chat prompted, feeling a bit smug that they had caused some grief towards those that wanted to see less talking and more fighting.

"_Well, now they're here trying to break down the door. I'm afraid my temporary barricade isn't going to last much longer, so I'm going to have to sneak out through the window. Thank you for your time."_

Everyone sat looking at one another as the crackling returned for a brief moment. Then, it stopped. Everyone just sat there, enveloped in the silence, looking extremely awkward.

Hip frowned. "…Now what?"

Julia pointed towards the looming Ferris wheel in the distance. "Anyone up for hanging at the amusement park?"

"Okay!" Mitch grinned. Chat rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hold back an amused smile.

"Last one there's a dead tribute!" Channa sang. Everyone laughed and took off down the beach, ready to have some fun times together.

**Hopefully they won't be listening to Justin Bieber that far into the future. Anyways, here's another teaser for you…**

**Can you think of something worse than a tracker jacker? I can.**


	5. Thanksgiving Feast

**Ugh, I've been super busy. I know some of you saw I'm putting up the first chapter of the 44th during Thanksgiving vacation, but I decided I should really wait until this semester is over otherwise I won't be focusing on finals enough. But I picked out a date, the day my classes end: December 21st. First day of winter, and also the end of the world, according to the Mayans! Epic, huh? If I don't stick to my word and get it up that day you can send me angry messages. But don't worry! Not even the apocalypse can stop me from slapping that on Fanfiction! Anyways...  
**

**Wow, look at all of the people that have voted in the poll. It's gone over the maximum number of spaces available. IT'S ON!**

**Also I'm really liking your guesses some of you have been leaving when I offer hints. It gives me more ideas-some of your suggestions I might wind up using XD**

**Here's what would have happened had they decided to eat at the feast. I never have any idea on how to end these so they always have kind of a silly, open-ended conclusion. :P**

The two alliances had reached a stalemate.

There they were, frozen at each end of a table. Before them was a tantalizing feast that included a rotund turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, cranberry sauce, and a number of rolls. There was sparkling grape juice and ice-cold water, too, that the parched tributes were desperate to get their hands on.

But with their enemies standing right in front of them, they didn't dare move. Hapi spoke first, concentrating his gaze on Saffron, "I had rather hoped that you would come," He told him, scraping his knives together.

"The revolting half-breed." Saffron acknowledged him through gritted teeth; "I am fortunate that I did not contract rabies after our last encounter."

Ravish was looking at Zane, a mischievous twinkle alighting in her eyes. "Oh, Zane…" She said, a sly smile planted on her face, "What are you doing with this boy? You should be with us, back on the Career alliance. _We're _your teammates."

"The Career alliance is over." Zane retaliated, "You made sure of that yourself. Besides, I would be dead if not for Hapi."

"The Career alliance _isn't _over," Ravish argued, motioning to Saffron and herself, "If you refuse us, then I'll have no choice but to kill you."

"I can see right through your façade," Zane snorted, not falling for it, "You're scared. You're not sure if you can defeat Hapi and I, so you want to turn me against him. But I know as soon as he's dead, you'd turn on me. I'm not stupid."

Ravish shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, "Well, okay then. Here's another idea…how about a temporary truce? We sit down, eat our fill, and _then _we can fight."

"No!" Saffron protested heatedly, "I refuse to share a meal with these mongrels! We will fight, and whoever comes out victorious shall dine!"

"I agree with Saffron." Zane murmured.

"You're going to wish you hadn't." Ravish said dangerously.

Suddenly, Hapi reached forward and slowly scooped up the bowl of mashed potatoes. Everyone snapped their heads toward him at the sudden movement. He held up the bowl, looking as if he were about to chuck it at Saffron's head. Then…

"Who wants mashed potatoes?" He asked in a singsong voice.

"I do!" Ravish declared, sliding into a chair and beginning to help herself. Hapi put a healthy serving onto her plate and she thanked him. Zane shrugged and sat down next to Ravish. Hapi sat across from him, piling food onto his plate and then passing the bowls around the table.

Saffron just stood there, gaping. "You can't be serious!" He said angrily, "I thought we were going to fight?"

"Fighting can wait. We're starving." Ravish said tersely, watching Zane as he prepared to slice the turkey. Hapi handed him one of his clean knives to do it.

"This is completely…this is not…!" Saffron searched for words to express his displeasure, but he was so flabbergasted that he was having a hard time doing so.

Hapi looked at him calmly. "Sit down and say grace, Saffron." He said in a quiet voice.

Saffron folded his arms rebelliously. "I refuse!"

Hapi pointed one of his knives in the Career's direction. "_Sit down and say grace!_" He demanded in a threatening voice.

"Fine!" Saffron growled, sitting down next to Hapi. He couldn't just stand there while everyone ate, anyways. So he folded his hands, closed his eyes, and growled, "We thank you for this meal that I may enjoy. Bless this food and myself as well, so that I may have the patience to dine with these mongrels and help me in my quest to conquer the Hunger Games by killing all the children. Amen."

Ravish pulled a face. "Um, no. I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that and start eating." She picked up her utensils and dug in, happy to eat real food again.

Zane poured glasses of grape juice for everyone. "Let's make a toast!" He declared, passing them out.

"To what?" Saffron said skeptically, "World peace?"

Ravish held back a mirthless laugh.

"Maybe we should toast to those that have lost their lives in the—"

"No." The three Careers said in unison, cutting Hapi off. The Asian glowered at his turkey leg, saying nothing. He should have known the Careers wouldn't have wanted to toast the ones that they had killed.

"Zane, it was your idea, so you make the toast. Just don't let Saffron do it." Ravish joked.

"Hmph." Saffron huffed, taking a violent bite of corn.

"Okay!" Zane said, lifting his glass, "To us."

"To us!" Everyone echoed, copying his movements.

"For being the strongest, bravest tributes the Hunger Games have ever seen!" Zane concluded grandly.

The four of them clinked their glasses together and downed their drinks. Then they got right back to their plates, refilling them as needed. Their conversations carried on without a hitch. When someone asked, "can you please pass the salt?" the other tribute obliged. All was well.

By the time the meal was drawing to a close, the three Careers were back on good terms. Even Saffron and Hapi had discovered their shared interest in the art of piano playing.

"It's too bad pianos can't be given as sponsor gifts," Hapi said, going in for a second slice of pumpkin pie.

"I wholeheartedly agree." Saffron gave a small sigh.

"Zane," Ravish said, starting to get all choked up, "That was such a great toast. I wish we could all be friends. I wish we could win the Hunger Games together and just go home!"

Zane was eyeing his empty glass suspiciously. "I'm not so sure that was grape juice we drank…"

"Well, the feast has reached a conclusion…" Saffron said flatly, "Now we must fight."

"Oh, please, no." Ravish said, patting her stomach, "I would love to, but I'm just too full. Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow." Hapi agreed, feeling bloated.

The four tributes rose from their seats, groaning at the effort.

"At least we managed to eat everything." Zane said, looking proud, "Now no one else will be able to benefit from it. Especially not that alliance of pansies."

"Right." Ravish said, smiling. "Well…see you tomorrow!"

With a friendly wave, the two alliances parted ways as if they had just been talking about the weather and _not _planning to murder one another the next day.

**Here's another fact for you…Hip died a virgin! Oops, that's not about the 44****th ****Games! Jeez, I'm running out of things to say…umm...**

**Anybody recognize the dude on my current avatar? No, no, not the potato, the other one. That's right! Wiley is based on Wheatley from Portal 2, which I would highly recommend. Just skip over Portal and go straight to Portal 2 because the original doesn't have much of a plot and it's lacking in the department of adorable AIs with British accents. Speaking of his accent, I could totally listen to him ramble on forever.**

**Hrm. Well, those are all the ideas I have for Outtakes for now. You're free to suggest more, though I might not take to them (sorry, I won't be writing the High School AU). See ya!**


	6. Dark Side

**Okay, I think you're going to enjoy this one! It has Scar as Spogebob and Set as Squadward…just kidding. I'm sorry, guest, I couldn't resist. Sadly, I won't be writing that scenario, but I hope you enjoy this chapter anyways even though it's rather short.**

"I DID IT! They're all dead! All of them! I'M THE VICTOR OF THE 42ND HUNGER GAMES!" Channa's voice gave out and she fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her head was throbbing and warm blood ran down her face. She reached up and pressed a hand to her eye, but it just kept coming, thick and fast.

_The hovercraft should be here by now. _She thought, trembling in fear. The tornado was still raging, but it had moved to the other side of the arena, over the ocean. She could see the waves it sent crashing onto the shore. She could see the ruined city, flickering with flames.

Tearing her gaze away, she counted off the tributes in her head, trying to remember whom she had seen in the sky. Cara and Abbadon were most certainly gone. Calista couldn't be alive, not after being stabbed so many times. And Hip's body was lying forgotten on the hillside, where the tornado had left it…

She closed her good eye, squeezing back tears, as the thought of it gripped her. Hip was gone. Everyone was. _Then where the hell is the hovercraft?!_

Channa opened her eyes and forced herself to walk to where Hip's body was. She kept one eye on the tornado as she went, hoping that the Gamemakers wouldn't decide to dispose of her right then and there. But they kept the storm a safe distance away, allowing her to check for any remaining tributes.

She circled the hilltop once…twice…a cold dread gripped her as she realized that Hip's body had disappeared. She swayed on the spot, feeling faint. Any moment, blood loss would cause her to pass out.

"Hip?" She called out in a weak, shaky voice.

"Yeah?"

She gave a sharp jerk of surprise and whipped around. There stood her district partner. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, and his face was covered in a fresh coat of grime.

"You're alive!" Channa cried out, relief washing over her. She knew it was wrong to feel this way, but she couldn't help it. She was so glad to see him again.

"Barely." Hip grunted, his eyes laced with pain. One hand clutched at his stomach, perhaps nursing broken ribs. The other held firmly gripped his mace.

Channa ran to him. Even though he cringed at her touch, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. He relaxed in her grip, but he didn't kiss her back. Channa pulled back, searching him for some sort of reaction. His face was blank, his eyes dull.

His expression reminded her of what came next. This was the part where they had to kill each other. They had managed to put it off for a bit longer…but they couldn't escape it forever.

Channa pulled back, looking at the single sword in her hand, hating it with every fiber of her being. Then she returned her gaze to Hip, waiting for him to say something. A familiar lop-sided smirk danced its way across his face and his eyes were suddenly alight with amusement.

"Wow…you're _really _ugly, aren't you?"

Channa's insides turned to ice. Out of all the things she would have expected him to say, this was not one of them.

Before she could do anything, he had already buried his mace into the side of her head. Pain stabbed through her head and a silent scream wracked her entire body. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, her limbs twitching as they tried to withstand the sheer pain of it all.

Hip crouched down next to her, smiling coldly. Channa's good eye rolled around aimlessly. After a few seconds, she managed to make out Hip's blurred image and fixed it on him. His grin widened when he realized that he had her attention.

"And you're not just ugly, either. You're incredibly _stupid_. I can't believe you fell for it. You're just like all the other trash I've dated." With a light chuckle, Hip leaned in closer, gently brushing Channa's hair back behind her ear.

She tried to pull away, but all of her strength was gone. A mixture of rage and grief threatened to overwhelm her. _Just kill me already. _She thought, her tears mixing with blood, _I want to die._

But Hip wasn't quite done. He placed his lips right by her ear, his breath tickling her cheek as he whispered, "I'm doing you a favor, Channa. You _deserve _to die. Just like the rest of them."

"NO!" An unexpected surge of adrenaline shot through Channa's veins. With a determined shriek, she lashed out at Hip, her nails mercilessly raking at his face. But he only laughed as long red gashes appeared on his skin. Furious, Channa threw herself at him, clambering to get a grip around his throat. He fought her off, laughing all the while…

"Channa! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!"

With a sharp gasp, Channa jerked awake. Her hands flew to her face to try and staunch the flow of blood that was coming from her injured eye. But the taste of salt in her mouth told her that they were tears. And instead of being atop the ravaged hillside, she was sprawled on a soft bed in the safety of her home. As she took it all in, she realized she was not alone. A warm hand caressed her hair, reminding her of that.

"Are you okay?" Rhutter asked quietly, his dark brown eyes full of concern.

Channa didn't respond right away. Her hands were locked tightly around Rhutter's arm, cutting off circulation. If it had been his throat…

Taking steady breaths, she forced herself to let go. As she did so, she caught sight of the deep scratches she had left in his skin. She could see blood pricking the surface.

Unable to keep from doing so, sobs started ripping their way out of her throat. "I'm sorry…!" She choked out, starting to pull away from him.

He caught her arm and pulled her back in, allowing her to rest her head on his chest. "Shh…it's okay. You're okay." He murmured in a soothing voice.

Channa allowed him to comfort her; but sorrow still swelled inside her like a balloon. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Every night, the arena haunted her dreams. The image of Hip's broken body was scorched in her mind…but this was the first time the events had played out differently. His words had hurt her more than anything.

Rhutter asked her if it was the same dream as always, and she didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. For a long time, they lay curled together on the bed, silent. Channa reveled in the clean sheets and soft glow from the TV.

"…Did I miss the rest of the movie?" She asked softly.

Rhutter nodded.

"Oh. Maybe we can finish it another time…?"

"Nah. It really stunk…way too predictable." Rhutter murmured, trying to smile at her. But she could still see the concern that was etched into his face.

Another bout of silence followed his words.

Channa cast a glance at Rhutter's arm. The marks still hadn't faded, but he didn't say anything on the matter. "I guess you should go…" Channa whispered, knowing that her family wouldn't approve of Rhutter staying over for the entirety of the night.

"You sure?" Rhutter said, frowning.

"Yeah. If Chardonnay barges in here…I'll never hear the end of it." Channa sighed, her eyelids beginning to droop. She stifled a small yawn and Rhutter gave a snort of amusement.

"Okay…good night, then." He kissed her on the forehead. Then he drew away from her, taking his warmth and his aura of comfort with him. As he silently walked out the door, all of Channa's fears returned. She didn't want to go back to sleep. She didn't want to reenter that world that was even more terrifying than the one she lived in. She drew her knees up to her chest and began to cry.

As she did so, memories of the other tributes swam through her mind. Countless regrets spilled out of her eyes as tears. Sniffling, she tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

Suddenly, warm arms encircled her, holding her close.

"If it's all right with you…I think I'll stay." Rhutter murmured.

Channa nodded wordlessly.

_Thank you._

**I realized Rhutter x Channa scored a decent amount of votes on the favorite couples poll, but they really haven't been given much screen time…page time? Screw it. Anyways, I was listening to Dark Side by Kelly Clarkson and I thought it suited them. Then I decided I'd devote a sweet chapter to them. Besides, the last few chapters have been pretty nuts so might as well give you something canon! **

**Regarding the 44****th ****Games, I've come up with some more hints! Go me!**

**What does this Head Gamemaker seem to enjoy sticking into her arenas? In other words, what has made an appearance in both the 42nd and the 43rd?**


	7. 42nd Interviews

**Can't believe I didn't think to do the interviews…so obviously, there would be loads of reporters going around and covering all of the tributes' loved ones and all that crap. But screw it! I'm gonna do what I want. So we just follow the same reporter going around, because this would have been a lot duller to write if I didn't have a character with a personality. And you should totally ignore the fact that she's in a bunch of places at once because…um…her name is really fun to say. And these are just outtakes so I don't have to keep to the laws of physics or anything of that sort.**

**District 1 – Hip and Channa**

After ten years of interviews, there was no denying that District 1 was the classiest of them all. The tributes they produced were glamorous, prideful, and always highly favored among Capitol citizens. The two contestants in the 42nd Games suited that description to a T.

Libra couldn't wait to meet their families. Although she enjoyed meeting residents of the richer districts, she _despised _going to the poorer ones. The people that lived there always seemed so dirty and despicable; enviously eyeing whatever charming attire she had chosen for the day. And she always planned accordingly, making sure her outfit matched the district she was visiting. Tributes weren't the only ones with stylists, after all!

Currently, Libra sported a clean white dress with diamonds interweaved into the fabric. A feathery, lavender wig was piled high on her head as a substitute for hair. And she had on her extra-long eyelashes too, which fluttered against her cheeks each time she blinked.

"Which family will we be interviewing first?" Leo, her blonde cameraman, wondered. His muscles were currently straining under the weight of all of their equipment—camera, microphones, tripods, you name it—but if he was uncomfortable, he didn't say so.

"The Bordeauxs." Libra answered, glancing at the address she had been given. She was looking forward to the encounter, but there was always the nagging thought that she would have to visit lesser districts after this. And she hated that part of her job. She wished she could just stay in the Capitol—she dreamed of one day taking of Caesar's job, but he was young and it was unlikely he would quit anytime soon. So she stuck with her current job.

Before they had even reached the house, the Bordeauxs came running out to meet them. They were all done up in their Sunday best, knowing that interviewers would be lining up now that the Games had reached the top 8.

"Libra Lumiere!" Channa's mother garbled in a forced Capitol accent, "Oh, how I've been dying to meet you! I'm a big fan! Really!" She dashed forward and clutched Libra's hand in her own, practically crying with joy.

"Careful!" Libra snapped, wrenching it away, "I just had a manicure!" She inspected her nails, making sure that none had been damaged. All of them were perfect little white crescents, not one bit out of place. Thank goodness.

"I'm so sorry, how silly of me! Do come inside, won't you?" Mrs. Bordeaux gave a nervous, high-pitched laugh and led everyone back to their home.

Inside, everything was neat and organized. The room practically shone with cleanliness.

"So are we each going to get our own interview?" The youngest daughter asked, smiling at Libra. She looked a great deal like Channa, and the reporter couldn't help but like her for it.

"That's right." Libra said lightly, "And this is the perfect room to do it in. Leo—turn off that light over there. I want natural light coming in from the windows. Yes! Perfect!"

They set up shop and started with Channa's mother, who was extremely eager to begin. During the interview, she never seemed to want to shut up. Libra could barely get a question in.

"Am I worried Channa won't make it home? Oh, of course not! There's just no possible way my little darling can lose. Have you _seen _the other competitors? I entered Channa into beauty pageants all the time when she was little, and she never lost, not once. The little girls that went up against her back then were more formidable than some of these teenagers! My baby is going to win it all! Go Channa! Yaaay!"

Libra just kept rubbing her temples, reminding herself that they could edit a bunch of this garbage out in the final version. They never aired the interviews live, because a lot of what the poorer citizens said had to be censored. They were always so desperate to make their disapproval of the Hunger Games clear to everyone, but the Capitol wouldn't let them have that satisfaction.

When Mrs. Bordeaux paused to take a breath, Libra quickly cut in, saying that they were on a strict schedule. Mr. Bordeaux was the complete opposite of his wife, answering questions with a curt yes or no. Libra couldn't decide which was worse, regarding the basics of an interview.

Luckily, their kids were more bearable. Dionysus, the son, proved himself as the most sensible one.

"Of course I'm worried about her…I mean, she's my little sister. I'd have to be stupid _not _to worry. But I'm proud of her too. She's doing what I couldn't."

"Just what do you mean by that?" Libra prodded.

Dionysus smiled sadly. "I was going to volunteer last year, but I was too slow."

"Let's say you _had _volunteered and returned home as the victor. Do you think your sister still would have entered this year's Games?"

Dionysus seemed shocked by the question. He had to think about it for a moment. "I…I don't know. It's hard to say. Possibly…" He left the interview wondering if he could have changed his sibling's fate.

Chardonnay, Channa's little sister, seemed intent on trying to destroy her sister's image.

"Ugh. I mean, I guess she's managed to kill _some_ tributes. Good for her. But I still say she's got a pretty low count for a Career. She's not gonna bring the family honor if she just sits on her butt all day!"

An amused smirk curled across Libra's face. "So it's not enough just to win…she has to kill the most tributes too?"

"Yeah." Chardonnay sniffed. "I mean, it's no fun if some loser who doesn't kill anyone wins. You know? I _hate _when the tributes who just wander around aimlessly somehow score a victory."

Libra nodded. "And do you share the same desire to enter the Games as your siblings?"

Chardonnay screwed up her nose in distaste. "Not really. I'll leave all the dirty work to them and just soak up the glory that comes my way." She gave a shrill laugh to conclude her statement.

"Wonderful. Well, I've really enjoyed speaking with your family, but it's time I moved onto to Hip's interviews."

Chardonnay rolled her eyes. "Ew. He is such a player. I wish Channa would just put him in his place already." She continued to chastise her sister as Leo removed her mic and packed their bags. It was very hard getting away from the Bordeaux family—Channa's mother kept insisting that they stay for dinner, but they had a job to do. After a round of goodbyes, they finally managed to break away and set off for the next house on their list.

* * *

Hip's house was much homelier than Channa's. It was clear to see that they didn't share the same obsession with trying to impress Capitol folks. But Hip's parents greeted Libra and Leo kindly and showed them to the family room. The reporter took a seat on a plush sofa and they served her coffee. Then Libra made the mistake of calling them Mr. and Mrs. Hoprock.

"Oh! We're not his parents. Hip's mother was my sister." Hip's aunt smiled.

Libra stared at the couple blankly. "Then what am I talking to you for?"

"We adopted Hip into our family after his parents passed away…" Hip's uncle said, taking his wife's hand in his own.

"Wait! Leo, set up the camera! _Now_!" Libra said quickly, knowing something juicy was coming her way. Hip's guardians seemed uncomfortable as Leo fastened microphones onto their collars.

When he had finished, Libra leaned forward eagerly, asking them how Hip had lost his parents.

"It happened a very long time ago," Hip's aunt began, looking uncertain, "Hip was so young, that—"

She was cut off by a harsh scream. During the interview, a large white cat had seemingly flown out of nowhere and landed in Libra's lap. It had scared the life out of her, and she was currently shrieking and flailing about. The cat puffed up to twice its size, its pupils dilating in fear. Unsure of what else to do, it sunk its claws into Libra's legs and hung on for dear life.

After a minute of struggling, a young man appeared and hoisted the cat off of the reporter. "You were in his spot." He said, tucking the feline under his arm.

"My dress!" Libra wailed, looking at the shredded white fabric. She brushed at it, trying to get the cat hair off, but it clung there quite stubbornly.

"Rhutter!" Hip's aunt sighed in relief, fumbling with her microphone, "This is our son, Rhutter. I'm sure he'd be happy to do the interview with you."

Rhutter shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Libra bit back tears at the sight of her dress. "Okay," She sniffed, "Leo…?"

Leo took care of things from there. Libra tried to maintain her usual chipper attitude when on camera, but it was clear to see she was miserable. Luckily, Rhutter answered the questions with poise, going into great detail.

"Hip's a guy who always keeps his eye on the prize…especially if it's a girl. And once he's locked on, you better watch out." The 16-year old said, grinning at some unknown memory.

"But do you really think Hip is a serious contender?" Libra prodded.

"Well, he's never been too serious about anything." Rhutter agreed, "I know it seems like he's more concerned with scoring a date from one of the female tributes, but I'm sure he hasn't forgotten what's at stake here."

"I see. So if it came down to him and say, Channa Bordeaux, do you think he could go through with it?"

Rhutter suddenly turned a faint shade of red, which matched his hair quite well. "Err…well, I don't really see it coming down to the two of them. I sure hope it doesn't."

"And why's that?" Libra asked, not pulling any punches.

"Well, it's just not good to see tributes from the same district having to take one another out." Rhutter sighed, "But if it does come down to the two of them, I'll be rooting for Hip."

"If you could say something to him right now, what would it be?"

Rhutter looked into the camera, his eyes dead serious, and said, "Your cat puked on my bed this morning. You're buying me a new one when you get back."

**District 2 – Bridon**

Ah, District 2. Certainly not the most fabulous district, but a good one nonetheless. Libra had selected a simple, skintight dress, with brick patterns on it. She hoped the residents of the district would appreciate it.

Bridon's parents were nervous wrecks. Libra had been excited to conduct an esteemed interview with a past victor, but Bridon's father couldn't stop bringing up how his son was injured. He kept looking into the camera and begging for someone to send his son wound-closing medicine.

"This isn't live," Libra reminded him for the tenth time that day.

"You have to get this on the air, quick!" Mr. Jakkels said, looking alarmed, "They wouldn't let me sponsor him because I'm a mentor. Please…" He turned back to the camera, "_Please _save my son. He's a good boy. He doesn't deserve to die!"

Mrs. Jakkels buried her face in her hands and started sobbing. Libra felt no sympathy. She just wanted to get this over with.

"Is it true that Bridon lost his brother to the Games a few years before…?" She asked loudly, trying to drown out the distraught mother's cries.

Bridon's father nodded. "Yes, yes…his allies betrayed him. Just like Bridon's." His eyes shone with tears and Libra could see that another breakdown wasn't too far off.

"Sienna's father is also a victor. Are you—"

"I hope that little monster rots in hell!" Mr. Jakkels burst out with sudden fervor, rising to his feet. He spit on the ground to accentuate his statement. Then he sunk back down into his chair, looking defeated.

Libra blinked. "I was going to ask if you were on good terms…"

"Not anymore." Bridon's father growled. His wife looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. At least her wails had died down into pitiful whimpers.

Libra quickly wrapped up the interview, but instead of answering any more questions, Mr. Jakkels returned to begging for his son's life. Even after the camera had been turned off and packed away, he didn't cease his desperate pleas.

As the young reporter exited the Jakkels' home, Bridon's father clutched at her hand and implored her, "You're rich, aren't you? Please, sponsor my son. I will give you anything you want. _Please_."

"Don't touch me!" Libra snapped, tearing away from him. Luckily, she had worn flats today, and it was easy to get away from the lunatic of a victor. "Honestly," She sighed to Leo as they boarded the hovercraft, "Should I just not bother getting my nails done anymore? It seems like all of these district peasants are bent on ruining them…"

**District 6 – Chat**

Sadly, District 4 wasn't on the tour this year. Libra couldn't help but feel disappointed. She adored the ocean, and some of her favorite dresses were District 4 themed. She had to settle for wearing a simple navy blue frock that matched the attire of a mechanic. But it was much cuter, with a low swoop in the back. It framed her trailing white wig nicely.

On the outskirts of the district, she and her assistant located Chat's house. Libra wrinkled her nose at the sight of it. "Ugh, she's dirt poor. Look at this monstrosity!"

Leo gave a small grunt under his heavy load and accompanied Libra to the door. It was a sad little shack with only a few messy rooms. The woman inside introduced herself as Chat's aunt, and wondered if they would prefer to do the interview outside.

"It's far too noisy outside," Libra said, rolling her eyes at the incompetence of district folks. Outside was the constant sound of hovercrafts, cars, and factories. It was no place for an interview. "We'll just have to do it in here." She eyed a pile of dirty laundry distastefully.

They cleared away a corner of the room. Chat's aunt was very flighty and stammered out pathetic answers. It didn't help that Libra kept rolling her eyes, making the poor woman more nervous than she already was.

"Perhaps you'd like to talk to Trail," She offered, "Chat's little brother."

"Where is he?" Libra asked.

"He ran off somewhere. I'll go get him." Chat's aunt quickly left the house, going to look for Trail.

Libra gave a frustrated sigh. Leo remained quiet, as usual. About ten minutes later, Chat's aunt showed up with her adopted son, looking relieved. She sat him down in the hot seat, telling him that it was his turn to be interviewed. He eyed the camera suspiciously as if it were going to burst into flames at any moment.

"Hello, darling!" Libra said in a cheerful voice, "So you're Trail? How old are you?"

He narrowed his eyes, pressing his mouth into a thin line.

"It's not a trick question. Just tell us how old you are."

"Ten." He said bluntly.

"I see. Almost old enough to be reaped." Libra mused, reveling in the fear that flashed in his eyes. "Are you proud of your sister for making it this far?"

Trail nodded.

"Do you think she has what it takes to win? And would you mind elaborating?"

"Of course she has what it takes. Haven't you been watching the Games?" The corner of Trail's mouth twitched smugly. Then his expression smoothed and returned to its former state—a blank stare.

Libra forced a laugh. "Of course I have! And I've been wondering…how did she get so good at trapping?"

Trail shrugged. "Training, maybe?" He didn't want to tell this floozy a single fact about his sister.

Libra tried pressing him for more details, but he avoided answering any questions directly. "If you could have, do you think you would have volunteered for Chat?"

"I'm a boy." Trail said in a flat voice.

"I know that, but let's say you were a girl…"

"But I'm not."

"This is all hypothetical, honey."

"I don't know what that means."

"Look!" Libra snapped, finally losing her patience, "Just pretend that you could have volunteered for your sister. Would you have done so?"

Trail lowered his eyes. "Well yeah…" He admitted, knitting his eyebrows together. "But she wouldn't have let me."

"Okay…" Libra sighed, knowing that she had finally landed a good response from him. "I'm afraid that's all we have time for. Thank you very much, Trail."

He remained silent, his eyes clouded with emotions. Libra thought he was going to cry, but he stayed stoic as they packed up their things. His aunt apologized about the state of the house as she showed them the door.

"It's fine," Libra said snootily, "We shouldn't have expected much from one of your status."

Trail's aunt tried to smile as they filed out the door. But then she shut it quite forcefully, listening to a loud yelp from Libra as it caught the back of her foot on the way out.

Trail's face broke into a grin. "Now I know where Chat gets it from." He laughed.

His aunt folded her arms, smiling wryly. "No, she gets it from her mother. If I had half the courage of that woman, I would've sent them packing instantly."

**District 7 – Calista**

Libra was excited to wear her District 7 getup. With their main industry being lumber, there was no way she couldn't wear something green. Her outfit of choice looked like an upside-down tree, with a short, green hoop skirt and a revealing brown top. Her hair was a mossy green, with bits of ivy entwined in it. Smirking, Libra paraded through the district, eyes searching for Calista's home.

She found the Sirrom family waiting for her, all dressed in black. They looked like they were already mourning the loss of their daughter. Nonetheless, Libra greeted them cheerfully. They morosely showed her inside and selected a spot to film the interview.

Calista's parents requested to do the interview together. They sat close together, clutching at one another for comfort.

"Now, I think everyone would like to know…is there some sort of reason your daughter volunteered?" Libra remembered Calista saying she was afraid one of her sisters would be chosen, but she hoped there was something more to it.

But Mr. Sirrom told her there wasn't. "She's always been rather impulsive…" He admitted in a tired voice.

"Do you think that will lead to her downfall?"

"She's made it this far." Calista's mother pointed out, looking slightly more hopeful that her husband, "Perhaps she can make it all the way to the end."

"What do you two think about the kindness she has shown towards her district partner?" Libra launched into the next question immediately.

The couple exchanged a small smile. "That's our Calista," Her father said, his voice teeming with emotion, "Always so compassionate. A shame that boy had to go the way he did."

"Calista will win for him." Her mother whispered, lowering her gaze.

Up next, Taryn and Aliyah did their interview together. They professed how much they missed their sister. Aliyah almost started to cry, but Taryn gave her a sharp nudge in the ribs to stop her from doing so.

"Calista deserves to win!" Taryn said heatedly, glaring at the camera, "She deserves it more than anyone! More than those stupid Careers!"

Aliyah nodded in tearful agreement. "She's a good person. I know she killed that little girl, but she was just protecting her friends."

Libra held back an amused snort. She never bet on underdogs such as Calista—the Careers were the true performers. Just as Chardonnay said, they deserved to win the most, for actually taking part in the Games and killing people. But Libra remained poised and kindly thanked the Sirroms for their time.

As she and Leo left the house, she realized with a sinking feeling that District 8 was next on their list.

"My boss didn't even give me the address for Abbadon's house." She complained to her cameraman on the way there.

Leo smiled calmly. "I guess we'll just have to do some digging."

"I'm a reporter, not a detective!" Libra whined, but she left it at that.

**District 8 – Abbadon**

It was hard work, trying to figure out where Abbadon lived. It was even harder work to select an outfit to wear that day. Libra had an entire wardrobe consisting of District 8 costumes. But instead of picking a dress stitched with multiple fabrics, she just went with a vicuna dress—a fabric even more expensive than cashmere. She sighed as the soft material brushed against her skin. Then she set out with Leo to locate Abbadon's family.

Hunting him down was hard, time-consuming work. Everyone seemed to know _of _him, but nothing _about _him. Refusing to give up, they pressed everyone they came across for details. But they only came upon dead end after dead end.

Libra had just about had it. Right when she was opening her mouth to voice her thoughts to Leo, a timid voice interrupted her.

"You're looking for Abbadon's family…?"

They turned to see a middle-aged beggar woman standing behind them. Her face was coated with a thick layer of scum and her arms were streaked with scars. Libra recoiled in disgust, but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"They live in the outer ring." She lifted a shaky finger and pointed in the direction of said neighborhood, "But the boy ran away from home a long time ago and the mother disappeared. Only his father lives there now."

"Can you give us the address?" Leo asked politely.

She did. Libra didn't even hear a word she said. She was too busy gaping in horror at the woman's atrocious nails, which were an unsettling shade of yellow and terribly long. Luckily, she had Leo to take down everything for her.

The beggar woman hurried off, without so much as a goodbye. But the two were already headed to Abbadon's home. The abandoned street the house resided on was quiet. Libra filled the silence with a nervous chatter, saying how grateful she was that the beggar woman hadn't come near her expensive dress. She shut up as Leo approached the door and knocked on it.

A moment later, the door cracked open. A balding man peered out at them, eyes glowing with suspicion. "Capitol scum!" He barked, sneering at the sight of Libra, "Get offa my property!"

"Wait!" Libra cried out hurriedly, "Are you Abbadon Sirus's father? We're here to conduct an interview!"

The man's features screwed up with an intense rage. He flung the door open the whole way and got right in Libra's face, screaming, "That little devil ain't no son o' mine! Now get out o' here! Get!"

Libra recoiled as his spittle landed on her face. Leo swelled up twice his size, as if he were preparing to fight this behemoth. But Libra whipped around, tugging on his arm and whimpering. They hurried off the property and down the road. The man screamed insults at them the whole way.

Libra was in tears by the time they had returned to the safety of their hovercraft. "I never want to come to District 8 again!" She sobbed. Leo gave her a comforting hug, but he was still thinking of that crazed man.

_What I wouldn't give to smack him upside the head with a tripod… _He thought wistfully.

**District 9 – Cara**

"Cara's always been an optimist. I think if she keeps up her happy-go-lucky attitude…I think she might be able to win this." Cara's brother, Carson, was currently being interviewed. Cara had a large family of six, with two parents, an older brother, and two younger siblings that were twins. On top of that, two of her closest friends had shown up, demanding to be interviewed as well.

"But what about Cara's injury from the Spider-Man? Won't that be a hindrance?"

"Well, she managed to recover, so I think she'll be okay. And she's got Calista with her…she's doing much better than some of the loners." Carson looked hopefully at the rest of his family and they tried to smile.

Candis and Carlyle took their interview together. Somehow, they had managed to nail down a pattern in which they would take turns speaking. One would drop out, and the other would immediately jump in, concluding their thoughts. Libra thought it was immensely irritating. When she pointed it out, they responded in unison, "It's a twin thing."

"Well, isn't that just _adorable_." Libra stated, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The twins exchanged an uncertain glance.

"How old did you say you were?"

"Eleven." Carlyle answered. "But—"

"We'll be twelve next month!" Candis finished.

"Oh, then you'll be eligible for the Reaping!" Libra said in a sugary sweet voice, "It would be so _precious _to see your shenanigans in the arena. I just can't get enough of it."

The twins finally shut up, eyes going wide with horror. Libra could see the rest of the family out of the corner of her eye, flinching as if she had struck them. She didn't care about stepping on their toes—the poorer the district, the more she hated the inhabitants.

"Okay, I think that's enough out of you two. Is that everyone?"

"Wait!" Cara's best friend, Mary, stated in a firm voice that she and Nate wanted to be interviewed. "I know we're not family, but…we're really close friends. Can we-?"

"Of course you can!" Libra smiled invitingly. "Friends are welcome just as much as family. Come sit down. Who would like to go first?"

"I will!" Mary declared, settling down next to the interviewer.

"So tell me about yourself. What's your rapport with Cara?" Libra asked.

"I'm her best friend." Mary said, her voice quivering a little bit, "And I just want to let Panem know how amazing Cara is. She may seem quiet at first, but she's a really fun person—she can be random and crazy. And-and, her outlook on life…she's just…" Her throat closed up with grief as memories of her friend washed over her. "I wish I could be more like her." She finished lamely, "And I wish Cara could see this. We always joked around a lot together…I never really let her know how much she meant to me."

"Aww." Libra sighed, trying to look sympathetic. "I'm sure Cara would be glad to know."

Mary became too choked up to continue the interview. She wiped away a tear, confessing, "That's all I wanted to say, anyways…" Then she let Nate take over.

He was composed, sitting in a relaxed position with his hands folded in front of him. Libra, never one to cut corners, asked if he was Cara's boyfriend.

"No," He confessed, "But like Mary, I have something I would have liked to tell Cara. I…I always loved her. More than just as a friend."

"Really?!" Mary shrieked from off-camera, looking shocked, "I knew it!"

Nate couldn't help but smile a bit. "We always kidded around that I was just a brother who was born into the wrong family. But the truth is, I never saw her as a sister. And I wished I had the nerve to tell her this…but now, it's too late." He looked away shamefully.

Libra actually felt a spark of pity. She leaned forward and placed a hand on his own. "It might not be too late." She consoled him, "She might come back to you."

Nate met her gaze, his eyes shining with tears. "That's what I'm praying for."

The interview ended on that emotional climax. Libra and Leo departed the house with quiet farewells. They headed to the hovercraft in silence. A sly smile planted itself on Leo's face and refused to go away. Libra kept casting glances at him.

"What?" She snarled, finally fed up with it.

"Nothing." He chuckled.

Libra scowled. "I know what you're thinking. Trust me, I am _not _letting any of their sob stories get to me. It's all for the camera!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." Leo agreed, rolling his eyes in the way Libra so often did.

She blushed and looked away. "Just shut up and carry the equipment…"

**District 11 – Julia**

"Last district on the list…thank God." Libra muttered as they plodded along, searching for Julia's house.

As they came upon their destination, they ran right into a man carrying a handful of dark-feathered birds. He stopped in his tracks, his face stricken with guilt. Libra narrowed her eyes, knowing a poacher when she saw one. Somehow he had managed to sneak past the Peacekeepers with his haul. Well, she wasn't going to let this scum get away with it.

Before she could call him out, Leo signaled to Julia's house and said they were here to conduct an interview.

The man observed them warily. "You're from the Capitol…?" He said in a slow voice.

"Well, obviously!" Libra huffed. As if her beautiful yellow gown didn't speak for itself! Couldn't he see the fact that her arms were dripping with expensive jewelry? She and Leo stuck out like sore thumbs, wherever they went.

"If you're here for an interview, then I'm the one you're looking for." The man said, looking a bit more relaxed—but his voice remained cold. "I'm Julia's father."

"Oh, wonderful!" Libra clapped her hands, relieved that they were nearly to the end, "Can we come inside?"

Mr. Stark nodded, although it was clear to see that he resented the idea. He led them inside the house and immediately disappeared into a backroom to stow away his catch. As he was coming back into the room, a young girl appeared from another, looking curiously at the reporter and her cameraman. She seemed to be about ten years of age.

"Daddy? Why are people from the Capitol here?" Fear lined her voice. Obviously, this concerned her sister to some extent.

"Don't worry, we're not bringers of bad news." Libra smiled kindly, "We're just here to ask a few questions. Would you like to be interviewed?"

"Okay." The little girl agreed. She took a seat at their dusty old kitchen table, which looked as if it hadn't been used in months. Leo expertly got everything set up while Libra tried to make their subject feel comfortable.

"What's your name, darling?" She asked, her mind drifting back to the Capitol. She couldn't _wait _to get home and watch the rest of the Games unfold.

"Jennifer…I'm Julia's sister." She said quietly.

"You look a great deal like her." Libra mused.

"I get that a lot." Jennifer said, unable to keep from smiling.

"So what's your opinion on the Games thus far?"

"They're frustrating to watch." Jennifer said simply.

"I agree it can be very suspenseful." Libra sighed, "Not knowing what might happen to your sister, seeing danger coming her way, but being unable to warn her…"

"Not suspenseful, _frustrating_." Jennifer growled. "Like when she wouldn't fight that one guy just because she thinks he's cute. She's _always _been like that. I wish she would just stop obsessing over boys! There's nothing special about them!" Her voice suddenly rose into a desperate wail that caused Libra to recoil ever so slightly.

The woman gave a nervous laugh and patted Jennifer's hand. "Now, now, there's no need to get upset. Julia's older than you, after all—"

"She should be trying to come home!" Jennifer exclaimed, cutting her off. Her eyes were welling with tears. "Mom never came home. What am I gonna do if…?" She trailed off, dissolving into a fit of sniffles.

A moment later, she rose to her feet and moved off-camera.

"I'm done." She said in a shaky voice.

Mr. Stark came in, his mouth set in a firm frown. He sat down in the chair without a word and glared at the camera.

"Um…" Libra stammered, trying to regain her composure, "So, Mr. Stark, what-?"

"I hope you're happy!" He snarled, whirling around and directing all of his fury at Libra. "Making a little girl cry like that. But it's what you Capitol slobs _live _for, isn't it?! Well let me tell you something…" He turned back to the camera and pointed a threatening finger at it, "This sick, twisted game of yours can't go on forever. One day, the districts will rise up and the Capitol will get what's coming to them!"

The room echoed with his shouts. He glowered at both Libra and Leo in turn, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull. Libra searched for words and couldn't find any.

"Get out of my house." Mr. Stark said in a low voice that sounded even more threatening than his screaming.

The two of them didn't need to be told twice. They packed up their bags and hurried out. Libra was biting back tears.

"It's all right." Leo groaned under the weight of the equipment, "So we didn't get much material for this district. No big deal."

"He called me a slob!" Libra choked out, "Doesn't he know who I am?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it." Leo sighed, "Y'know this is one of those rebel districts—3, 8, and 11. Gotta watch out for them."

"I _hate _the poor districts." Libra mumbled, glaring down at the dirtied street beneath her feet. The grime had gotten on her sparkly, pristine shoes.

Leo just smiled. "I know you do, but we're all done here. We can go home."

Libra crossed her arms angrily, casting her gaze on the blue sky above. "Yeah, until next year…then we'll be right back where we started."

**Haha, Libra and Leo make a cute duo. 43****rd**** interviews are up next! For the hint, I'm gonna show you guys the summary for the next Games. Tell me what you think (I suck at summaries so suggestions are welcome):**

**A proud look. A lying tongue. Hands that shed innocent blood while dark hearts devise wicked plots. 24 tributes are reaped for the 44****th**** annual Hunger Games in order to atone for the sins of the past. But this arena just might be the deadliest one yet. Welcome to the 44****th**** Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor…**

**No, you don't get to know what the arena is from the summary because I'm a mean person. **


	8. 43rd Interviews

**I wrote most of this in one sitting because I am sick and lazy. **

**Made some awesome changes to Wiley's background and keep coming up with cool stuff for the arena. See, there's some good stuff coming out of holding off on the story! Plus I've been picking up new readers, judging by the random new followers I get and the fact that the poll results are over 30 now.  
**

**District 1 – Saffron**

Another great year for District 1. At least, that's what everyone thought…until the feast happened.

Libra and Leo had arrived in the district early, thoroughly convinced that both competitors would be making it to the top 8. They partied with the classiest people District 1 had to offer, and all the while, the Hunger Games was always playing out in the background.

One morning, at a fancy cocktail party, Libra made the mistake of leaving the room to refill her drink. When she came back, all of the partygoers were crowded around the TV, screaming and crying.

"What happened?!" Libra demanded, but no one answered. She squeezed through the crowd until she had located Leo, who loomed over everyone else. He tore his gaze away from the TV and looked at his coworker, blue eyes full of shock.

"District 1 is done for." He said in a low voice.

"You mean we came here for nothing?!" Libra said angrily.

A collective wailing had gone up from the citizens around them. Men were cursing viciously while women lamented the tributes. Suddenly, someone exclaimed, "Wait! Saffron's still alive!"

The screen showed a shot of the boy bounding through the snow on the ice side. But it was clear to see that he had been wounded. Libra didn't waste a second.

"Come on!" She snapped, grabbing Leo's hand and dragging him towards the door, "We've got to get to the Le Bel mansion."

Springing into action now that the Games had reached the top 8, Libra and Leo went as fast as they could to their hovercraft. Once there, they gathered up all of their equipment. Or rather, Leo gathered everything while Libra stood on the sidelines and yelled at him to hurry up. After what seemed to take forever, they finally rushed off to their destination.

The Le Bel mansion wasn't hard to locate. They had been found it upon their arrival and then toured the rich neighborhoods, looking for a suitable place to party. But now, they were all business.

Libra went to ring the doorbell and then stopped short. "Do I look all right?" She asked worriedly, trying to smooth out her dress. It was a beautiful mix of warm colors, fading from yellow to red on the way down. The bottom was ruffled, with streaks of blue. Rather than going with the district theme for this year, she wanted to wear a fiery number referring to the fire side of the arena.

Leo just gave her a curt nod and motioned for her to ring the doorbell. She did—but they had a while to wait before anyone answered. Finally, when the heavy double doors opened, they revealed a boy that could be no one but Saffron's brother. He appeared extremely disheveled, as if he had just come from jogging a marathon.

"Go away," He said, chest heaving, "I know you're here for the interviews, but Saffron could be dying, and none of us want to talk to you. Now _go_."

He went to shut the door, but a powerful voice made him freeze on the spot. "What do you think you're doing, you fool? You have no right to speak to them like that."

The man that appeared was unmistakably Saffron's father; he appeared to be an older version of the tribute himself, with the same bright blue eyes and blonde hair, albeit a receding hairline. He spared a glare at his other son, and then turned to apologize to his guests.

"I apologize on behalf of the boy's rudeness." He said curtly, "I trust you're here for an interview?"

"Oh, it's no big deal…" Libra said hurriedly, "But yes, we're here for the interview and we're a bit short on time. So if you don't mind…" She made a move as if to enter the house, but Mr. Le Bel blocked her way.

"Not in my home." He said in a stern voice. "We'll do it here, on the veranda."

"Oh, but Mr. Le Bel, it's so much better to do interviews inside. There's far too much—"

"_Monsieur _Le Bel. And do not argue with me." The man said in a dangerous voice, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Feeling a flash of disappointment, Libra directed Leo to start setting everything else. Although she had been eager to enter the mansion, she couldn't deny that the veranda was a lovely area for an interview.

"So Monsieur Le Bel…have you seen the latest in the Games?" Libra asked in a grave voice.

Saffron's father was quiet for a moment. Then he answered, "Of course. I own a number of television sets."

"Then I assume you've seen that he's taken a bad shot to the shoulder and lost his partner as well. Do you think he'll—"

"If he had taken my advice and disposed of his alliance early on, then he wouldn't be in this situation." Monsieur Le Bel scowled.

"What advice did you give him?" Libra questioned eagerly.

"I told him to destroy his alliance when they were no longer of use to him. But he fled like a coward!" He growled, getting worked up, "I didn't raise my son to be a coward!"

Libra blinked black surprise. "You must be having a hard time coping with Saffron's injury…" She mused.

Saffron's father narrowed his eyes. "Not at all. Saffron is going to win."

Libra lifted her eyebrows at the random change of heart. "And what makes you say that?"

"Because they are foul, miserable human beings that are not worthy of victory." He said simply, "Saffron is of the purest blood and has had many years of training. He won't let a simple peasant get the best of him.

Libra didn't bother pointing out that Saffron's pure blood was currently smeared all over the ground of the arena.

**District 2 – Zane**

After the esteemed interview with Monsieur Le Bel, it was time to pay a visit to District 2. Libra quickly changed out of her fire dress and slipped into something a bit icier. This new dress was a wonderful mix of blues and purple, with sequins that sparkled. On the way to Zane's house, Libra kept asking Leo which dress he preferred, but he knew better than to answer. If he picked one, she would get angry and demand to know what was wrong with the other. So he kept quiet.

His partner finally shut up when it was time to interview the Ronans. The two were met with a warm reception; Mrs. Ronan had baked a cake to celebrate the occasion. Everyone seemed relieved that Zane had made it to the final 8.

They started off interviewing his parents.

"Oh, we're not worried." His mother said in a lighthearted tone, "Zane's made it so far already, and he doesn't have anymore Careers to worry about."

"Our son has the competition in the bag." His father added, beaming. They were acting as if he had already won.

"But some of the tributes are still quite formidable," Libra reminded them, "For example, Hapi Saltzman scored a 9 in training. And Kalin Barry's alliance…"

The couple exchanged a glance and laughed in unison. "We're not worried." Mrs. Ronan smiled, "The Asian boy is mentally unbalanced, and that alliance is nothing to fear. Zane can handle them both just fine."

"We're quite grateful to the Hapi boy for saving his life, though." Mr. Ronan said, "Perhaps Zane can donate a portion of his winnings to the boy's mother. Wasn't she in a comatose state?"

"I believe so…" Libra said, "Well, I'm sure you're aware that Zane is the new favorite now that he killed Ravish. Are you afraid this will put a target on his back?"

The couple once again laughed, causing Libra to feel a prick of annoyance, as if they were laughing at _her_.

"We're ecstatic that he's finally been recognized as the favorite." Mr. Ronan said, once he had composed himself.

"I'm sure." Libra mumbled. Then she brightened considerably and declared that she would be interviewing Zane's brothers next. Carter and Oreon took it together. Libra asked them their ages to start off.

"17 and 18? So you could have volunteered for the Games…why didn't you?" Libra asked curiously.

Oreon narrowed his eyes while Carter responded, "Zane was hand-picked at the academy. I guess there were no other worthy candidates this year."

"Didn't you receive the same training as your brother?"

"Well…yeah."

Libra's lips twitched. "Interesting."

"What are you implying?" Oreon asked suspiciously.

Libra snorted inwardly. _What, you're not smart enough to figure it out for yourself?_

Carter saved her from having to answer. "We're happy for our brother," He said quickly, "Sure, he's the youngest, but he was the best for the job."

"If you could give him any advice, what do you think you would tell him?"

Oreon spoke up for this one, looking disgruntled. "I hope he gets out of that alliance with the Asian while he still can…that creep just needs to be put out of his misery."

Libra gave a light laugh. "Well, I'm looking forward to seeing how things turn out."

"So are we…" Oreon smirked.

With that, they wrapped up the interview and set off for District 5. As they were walking out the door, Mr. Ronan called after them, "I guess we'll be seeing you soon!"

Libra turned around curiously. "…What makes you say that?" She wondered, confused.

"Oh, so you won't be coming back to interview Zane after he wins?" Mr. Ronan asked, grinning. He and his wife chuckled appreciatively at his little joke.

Libra just rolled her eyes and continued on her way.

**District 5 – Amara**

"I don't have long. I'm supposed to be working," Cleo told Libra, as the reporter pulled her to the side for the interview. She had been standing guard in the town square where large TVs showed the Games playing out. Many townspeople were gathered around, watching. There was a certain excitement in the air, as everyone silently rooted for Amara to win.

"That's fine, we'll make it quick." Libra promised in a gruff voice. She was in a bad mood from being forced to shoot outside once more. Leo hastened to get the camera ready, then pointed it at Cleo and nodded.

"So, Cleo…how did you get away with adopting Amara when Peacekeepers aren't allowed to have families?" Cleo became oddly quiet. Obviously, she wouldn't want to talk about this, but Libra didn't care a whit about what Cleo wanted. "Peacekeepers must serve 20 years without marriage or children…" Libra began to remind her.

"I know that! Of course I know that!" Cleo snapped, "But I've got more than 10 years below my belt and Amara…she needed me. And I needed her." Her voice broke slightly, but she quickly lifted her chin in defiance.

"I'm amazed you haven't lost your job yet…" Libra gave a light, tinkling laugh as Cleo's expression darkened. "Do you fear that this might cause you to lose your position as Peacekeeper?"

Cleo shook her head. "I fear losing Amara more."

_And this is why you shouldn't be a Peacekeeper. _Libra thought to herself. Peacekeepers were supposed to put their loyalty in the Capitol first and foremost. No doubt that Cleo's loyalty was wavering now that Amara had been reaped for the Hunger Games. "Well, I suppose the bright side to losing Amara is that you won't lose your job. Maybe." Libra said thoughtfully.

"That's it. I'm done here." Cleo said stiffly, turning and walking away.

Libra frowned at Leo. "Oops. Did I say that aloud?"

"Yes." Leo sighed, "Yes you did."

Libra screwed up her nose. "Oh well. This district stinks, anyways. Let's go to the next one."

**District 7 – Angela**

It was time for yet another trip to District 7 this year, which meant another green dress for Libra. But as she was sorting through her wardrobe, she decided she wanted to do something _new_. She found exactly what she was looking for in the back of her closet. She squealed and wiggled with excitement as she worked it onto her body. She glanced at the wigs, but decided to keep her natural blonde hair for the day.

When she came across Leo, she twirled and asked him how she looked.

He just stared blankly.

"Do you like it? It's purely made from paper. I think it looks neat." Libra said, feeling the strange material between her fingers.

"I think you look like a ballerina." Leo said flatly, indicating the way the paper formed a ruffled tutu. "A ballerina short on cash."

"Whatever." Libra scoffed. "So who's up next?"

"Angela, the 12-year old." Leo told her, looking at a schedule, "Pretty impressive that she made it so far…"

"Sure." Libra said, rolling her eyes. "Show me a 12-year old victor and _then _I'll be impressed."

They headed off for Angela's house. Libra was grateful to see the family was middle class rather than dirt poor. Once there, they met the two men of her family—Mr. Autumn and his son, Oliver. The two hurried to set up a suitable interview area, as if they hadn't been expecting company. As they were doing so, Libra rudely asked where Angela's mother was. Mr. Autumn smiled sadly and said that she had died giving birth to Angela.

"Oh. How cliché." Libra sniffed.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Autumn said, narrowing his eyes. He suddenly reminded her of Angela with her hot-tempered personality.

"Nothing," Libra said lightly, "Let's do the interview! Who's going first?"

"You can, Dad." Oliver said, taking a seat off to the side.

Mr. Autumn put on a forced smile as Leo signaled for them to begin.

"Hello! This is Libra Lumiere and I'm in District 7 with Angela's father, Mr. Autumn. So, what can you tell us about Angela? Are you shocked to see that she made it this far?"

Angela's father smiled. "I'll be honest, I had my doubts about her. I've been so worried that I can't sleep at night. But Angela's tough. She's had to balance school and a job, and she's had to deal with being the only girl in the family…she's definitely had it rough." He allowed himself a small chuckle.

Libra turned to the camera. "Mr. Autumn has already shared that Mrs. Autumn passed away giving birth to his daughter…" She said gravely.

"It wasn't a wasted sacrifice." He interrupted quietly.

Libra arched an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"Her sacrifice…she didn't die for nothing." Angela's father repeated quietly, "Angela's going to win, for her mother. She's going to go on and live a long life for her." A small, sad smile creased his features.

Libra refrained from gagging. "Right. So, Angela works?"

"Of course…" Mr. Autumn growled, his smile transforming into a scowl, "Do you see any child labor laws in the districts?"

The young reporter forced a laugh. "No, I suppose not. I'm interested to know what her job was…"

"She works at the lumber company with Oliver and I."

"Oh yes, of course…just like everyone else in District 7." Libra rolled her eyes. _That was a dumb question. _Oh well. That was to be expected. People in the districts didn't have the most fabulous of jobs...

Oliver was up next. He had nothing but good things to say about his sister. "She's not afraid of anything." He was saying, "And she's really smart, as she's proved repeatedly."

"Well, in my opinion, I think it's good for a tribute to have a bit of fear in them," Libra countered, "Otherwise they might get carried away."

"Angela isn't arrogant." Oliver retaliated.

"Uh-huh." Libra snorted, thinking of how Angela had repeatedly provoked the Careers, "Well, whatever she's doing, I suppose it's working. She's made it _this _far."

"She's so close to the end…she can't stop now." Oliver said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. He looked up into the camera, his eyes wide and sad. "They say there's no chance of a 12-year old ever winning the Games. But if anyone can, it's Angela. She can do it…she has to. Because if she doesn't…I just can't imagine life without my little sister."

**District 8 – Hapi**

"Ugh. These interviews are so emotionally draining…I want to quit. I'm so sick of doing this." Libra moaned, massaging her temple.

Leo was only half listening. This happened at least once a year. During one of the interviews, Libra's morality paid a visit, and she filled up with compassion. Then she whined how much she hated her job. But he knew she didn't.

"I'm _so _not looking forward to conducting Hapi's interviews. How do you interview someone who's in a coma?!"

"You don't." Leo replied, amused, "We'll just have to settle with interviewing his father. I've got an address here…apparently he doesn't live with his own son."

"Oh boy." Libra moaned, "Can't _wait _to hear the depressing story behind that one."

Picking out a dress to wear made Libra feel a little bit better. She selected a skintight piece that made her feel confident, and draped herself in sable furs. Then she headed out with her trusty partner by her side.

A young blonde woman answered the door at the address they had been given. "Does Roger Saltzman live here? We're here for an interview."

The woman brightened up and let them inside. "Oh yeah, of course! Can I be interviewed too?" She said eagerly.

"I don't see why not. What's your relationship to Hapi?" Libra inquired, folding her arms. She knew this certainly wasn't his mother.

"Oh…I've never actually met him. I'm currently dating his father." The blonde admitted, "Can I still be-?"

"Don't waste my time." Libra snapped, cutting her off. "We're here to talk to people that actually _know _him."

Sulking, the woman ran off to get Roger. Leo selected a bright corner of the room and, as always, had to set everything up by himself while Libra watched. Then Roger appeared and they got right into the interview.

"Wow!" Libra chortled, "So that's where Hapi gets his fabulous red hair. And here I thought he had dyed it."

Roger smiled wearily. "No, he wouldn't be able to afford it."

Instantly, Libra recalled everything Hapi had said in his interview. He sold masks to the Capitol, but poured all of the money into keeping his mother alive. "Mr. Saltzman, why don't you live with your son?" She blurted out. She was dying to know.

Guilt clouded the man's expression. "I…" His voice caught in his throat. He bowed his head and remained silent for a moment.

_Great. Emotions are already running high. _Libra sighed.

"I left." Roger said pathetically, "A couple years ago…but he's been doing all right, taking care of himself…"

"Do you visit often?"

"N-no…" Roger admitted, his face beginning to redden. "I mean-! I'm very busy."

Libra's eyes flicked to where the blonde woman was standing. Oh, boy. This was going to unfold like a soap opera. And Libra loved soap operas. "Is it that you're afraid to face him?" Libra asked in the most dramatic voice she could muster.

Roger blinked. "…What?"

"He works hard to provide for his mother; it's clear to see that you up and left both of them. What caused you to give up?"

Roger flushed a deep red that clashed with his fiery head. "I don't…you have no right to…" He was mumbling incoherently. He looked as if he might explode at any moment.

"Don't you care about your son?"

"OF COURSE I DO!" The explosion was violent; Mr. Saltzman flew to his feet and towered over Libra. "Of course I care about my own son! And I'm sorry I left, okay?! I wish I could…I tried to…!" He was so angry; he seemed to choke on his words.

"Okay. I think we're done here." Libra squeaked out, regretting the way she had provoked him.

Roger whipped towards the camera. "I'm sorry, Hapi!" He bellowed, "I'M SORRY, ALL RIGHT?!" Then he stomped away, calling over his shoulder, "Now get out of my house!"

Libra and Leo quickly packed their bags and left. Libra was disappointed with the way things had turned out, but she knew the Capitol would eat it up.

"Look on the bright side," Leo said; giving her a friendly nudge, "We actually _got _an interview for District 8 this year."

**District 10 - Jarek**

"Inkervoo? Can I inkervoo for Jarie?!" Dalia squealed in an excited voice.

Libra put on a very forced smile. She was awful with kids. They were disgusting little bacteria traps. As soon as she had walked through the door in her flowing, cow-patterned dress, the toddler had assaulted her. She had wrinkled the fabric in her little fists and started mooing at her. Libra couldn't help but feel insulted.

Luckily, Dalia's parents had quickly pried their daughter off and apologized. Libra just huffed, refusing to accept their apology. She directed Leo to get set up for the interview. Mr. and Mrs. Damon sat together on their couch. Mr. Damon scooped up his daughter and bounced her on his knee.

"Of course you can get interviewed," Her mother cooed.

"Actually, I would prefer…" Libra began to protest, but Leo waved a hand at her.

"Just let them do it together." He said in a kind voice, pulling a silly face at Dalia, who giggled in response.

"Fine." Libra agreed. She faced the family and was seized by pure revulsion at the sight of a snot bubble inflating on Dalia's nostril. Leo gave her the cue to begin, but pure horror had frozen her on the spot.

"Libra!" Leo's stern voice brought her back to reality.

She cleared her throat. "Right! Um…first question…" The bubble popped and she visibly flinched. She forced herself to look at the parents instead. "How do you feel about your son making it so far into the Games?"

The Damons beamed. "We're so proud!"

"Jarie danced with a princess!" Dalia squealed.

"I'm glad he found an alliance to work with," Jarek's father elaborated, "The Kalin boy seems to know what he's doing. I think Jarek owes a lot of success to his partners…"

"I just hope his success holds up." Jarek's mother added, knitting her eyebrows with worry.

Dalia looked at her parents excitedly and pointed a finger at the camera. "Can I tell about the princesses?" She wondered.

They both indulged in her wish. The interview turned into a stream of mindless babbling, monopolized by the 2-year old who was talking so much she had begun to drool. Libra slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, hating her job more than ever.

"And he got 2nd, and now he's coming home!" Dalia concluded triumphantly.

Libra narrowed her eyes. She knew the kid was referring to the scores—Jarek had only gotten a two, the lowest of them all. Well, Libra would make sure to inform her of the truth. "Oh, Jarie didn't get second…the Games aren't over yet." The reporter said in a sugary voice.

Dalia looked confused. Before she could say anything, her father covered her ears. "Please," He said, looking grim, "Can't we keep this censored?"

Libra blinked at him. "What? There was nothing wrong with what I said! It's the truth!"

"We just don't want Dalia to worry," Mrs. Damon whispered, "She misses her brother so much…it was really tough on her, saying goodbye."

"Fine." Libra growled.

Jarek's father removed his hands from Dalia's ears and she grinned up at him. "We playing a game?" She asked.

"Nope! Still interviewing!" Libra interjected, but before she knew it, Dalia had already gone off on another tangent, talking about her and Jarie's favorite game. Libra gave a frustrated sigh and sunk lower into her seat. She buried her face into her hands, not caring how unprofessional it was, while the little girl just droned on and on and on about complete drivel.

**District 11 - Kalin**

"This thing on?" The short boy was repeatedly tapping on the tiny mic attached to his bowtie. He seemed utterly fascinated by it. With each hit, he sent a piercing burst of static into Leo's ears. The man cringed, trying to resist the urge to take off his headphones.

"Yes, for the last time, it's on!" Libra snapped, slapping at the boy's hand until he had removed it. "Now let's get this over with." Smoothing her citrus-orange blouse, she took a deep breath. A moment later, her face was lit up with a fake smile and she was greeting the camera with a chipper, "Hello citizens of Panem! I'm Libra Lumiere and I'm here in District 11, with Kalin Barry's close friend…"

"Dean." The boy grinned, absent-mindedly reaching up and poking his microphone a little bit closer to his mouth.

"Dean…?"

"Uh, Moriarty. Yeah. And may I just say, it's good to be here, Lib! Thanks for havin' me."

Libra ground her teeth together in annoyance, but tried to maintain her friendly demeanor. "Thank _you _for having us. Sadly, we couldn't get ahold of Kalin's family, but we found a friend of his lurking outside his house—"

"Man, me and that guy go way back!" Dean interrupted, "Kellen's like a brother to me. So I know what I'm sayin' when I say I'm the next best guy for an interview!"

Libra frowned. "_Kalin_." She corrected.

"…What'd I say?"

"You called him Kellen."

"No I didn't." Dean lied, giving a nervous laugh.

Libra narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "…So what can you tell me about him?"

"Well, _Kalin_…" He paused, letting his emphasis on the tribute's name sink in. "Kalin works in the orchard. And he's 17…three years older than me. But we're tight, man! We're like this." He crossed his fingers to demonstrate just how tight they were.

"That's very nice, but I was hoping you would tell us something we _didn't _already know." Libra said, unable to keep the sarcasm from seeping into her tone. She cast a glance at Leo and he was shaking his head. So she immediately changed face, asking Dean's reaction to the Games thus far.

"Oh, I dunno, I haven't really been watching…" Dean shrugged.

"Excuse me?" Libra blinked.

Dean's eyes went wide as he realized his mistake. "Err—well, you know, I've gotta work and go to school and all that jazz."

Libra sighed inwardly; dissatisfied with the way this interview was turning out. Before she could voice the next question, Dean suddenly exclaimed, "Well, I'd better get going. Thanks for your time!"

The reporter and her cameraman watched him flounce away, exchanging a glance.

"Well that was a flop." Libra sighed, helping Leo pack up his camera. "Can we please just go to District 12 already? It's the last one and then we'll be done!"

"Shouldn't we dig a little bit deeper?" Leo suggested, knowing that his partner was sick of this dingy district. But Kalin was among the favorites to win, and everyone would want to hear what his loved ones had to say about him. They couldn't just skip over him.

"Fine, fine…" Libra grouched, trying to puff up her bright green wig.

Suddenly, Leo frowned. "Hey…did he walk off with our wireless?"

Libra's jaw dropped. "You've _got _to be kidding me."

"It's not here." Leo dug through all of their equipment, but the tiny microphone was nowhere to be found. He shrugged, looking calm. "Oh well. I've got spares in the hovercraft."

"Oh, come on! There's no way that little germ bag is getting away with this. Microphones are expensive!" She began to march off, her high heels clacking noisily against the hard ground.

"Where are you going?" Leo asked, struggling to keep up.

"It's a big district, so we'll have to get his address at the Justice Building. Hurry up!"

After walking a good distance, they reached their destination. Officials dug through records, trying to locate Dean Moriarty's address. It took a long time, and Libra was beginning to grow impatient. Finally, a tentative employee appeared before them and told them that the boy they had interviewed did not exist.

"What!" Libra practically shrieked, "That's impossible! Check again."

"We already checked several times…"

Libra whirled around and stomped towards the door, fed up with District 11. "This dump is just teeming with lowlifes!" She complained to Leo on their way back to the hovercraft, "They probably just can't keep track of them. Someone should really take some action!"

Leo just listened quietly, looking rather amused. Together, they boarded the hovercraft and set off for their final stop.

**District 12 – Bentley**

District 12…the poorest district. And quite possibly the most disgusting. Libra grimaced at the sight of coal-dusted workers coming back from a day of working in the mines. It didn't help that Bentley lived in a poorer section of the district. Here it was: the dregs of Panem.

"Let's get this over with," Libra muttered, "We're almost done." She knocked on the door and was greeted by Bentley's mother and his little brother. Their dirtied faces were dull. Many of the families they had encountered so far still had hope shining in their eyes…but not them. Libra couldn't help but feel a tug of pity.

"Congratulations!" She said, trying to sound cheery, "Bentley's made it all the way to the top 8 so that means you get to be interviewed!"

Without a word, Mrs. Rivera let them inside. Libra looked around the dark room, eyeing the dusty furniture with displeasure. _It'll have to do. I want to get out of here as fast as possible._

She actually helped Leo set up the camera, much to his surprise. Then she put Bentley's mother in front of the camera and asked for her thoughts on the Games so far.

She stared at her interviewer blankly. Then she said, "I don't want to talk about it."

The smile dropped off of Libra's face instantly. "Okay…um, how about your son?"

"Ronnie." Mrs. Rivera said, moving aside for her son to take her place. Ronnie looked up at the camera shyly. Libra gave him a comforting smile.

"It's okay, I'll just ask a few questions and we'll be done. Sound okay to you?"

"Okay." Ronnie agreed.

"Great! So, is it hard having to watch your brothers compete in consecutive years? In your opinion, which of the two arenas is more dangerous?"

Ronnie just stared at Libra. Tears pricked his eyes. "I don't want to talk about Carson." He sniffled.

"Okay, that's fine, we're here to talk about Bentley anyways…" Libra said quickly, "Um, so are you proud of him? He's proven himself as quite the competitor!"

"He killed someone." Ronnie said dully.

"Yes he did…"

"He shouldn't have done that!" Ronnie went on, his voice full of passion, "It's wrong to kill. He made it seem like he was gonna defy the Capitol, but he played right into their hands! Why would he do that…?" Tears began dripping down his face, but Libra's pity had dissipated.

"That stunt he pulled at his interview certainly didn't score him any points with the Capitol…" Libra noted, "I'm surprised the Gamemakers haven't taken it out on him."

"They won't off him because the Capitol wants to see him avenge Carson." Ronnie stated bluntly.

"Is that what you're hoping for?"

Ronnie glared at Libra through his tears. "No! I don't want him to kill anyone else. I just want him to come home…!"

"Tributes usually have to kill if they want to win." Libra reminded him.

Ronnie looked away. "I know. But I…I can't lose _both _of my brothers. Can I?"

Libra sighed. _Yes, you can. _But she didn't have the heart to say it out loud. The interview ended on a sullen note and they packed up their stuff until next year.

On the way back to the hovercraft, Libra suddenly threw her arms up and gave a jubilant cry. "It's over!"

Leo smiled. "Libra…you're not really going to quit, are you?"

Libra brought a finger up to her lips and tapped them, as if she were truly considering the idea. Then she waved her hand and said, "Nah, I wasn't serious when I said that. I say that every year."

"I know." Leo laughed softly.

"I mean, even though I don't act like it, I _do _like this job. I get to travel, meet new people, wear pretty dresses…it's a pretty good job to have." She smiled in anticipation. With these interviews behind her, she had a lovely vacation to look forward to. She could watch the rest of the Games in peace. Then, next year would bring more traveling, more new people, more pretty dresses…

"Wow," She smirked, "just thinking about it gets me kind of hyped. I can't wait to see where we'll be traveling next year…"

**Nor can I, Libra. Nor can I…**

**You're not getting a hint about the 44****th**** in this one because you got to meet one of the tributes. And that's better than any hint.**


	9. Breakaway

**Yay for 100 reviews! Thanks for sticking with me, guys. :) Less than 2 months to go! I'm so excited!**

**I changed the poll thanks to Aravis's wonderful suggestion. Make sure you go vote! It'll help gauge which spots have the most competition. If you see one of the spots you're targeting with a few votes, don't let that discourage you. Your character might wind up beating everyone out! So please make sure to vote for your number one choice!**

**Also keep in mind that D3 and D11 male are taken even though I put them as an option. I just like voting in my own polls. XD Speaking of which, looks like more than one person is targeting Wiley's district partner! Awesome!**

**Anyways, I wrote this in one sitting so I hope it doesn't suck too much. Just putting off homework. :P**

Today had been a long day. Then again, every day was a long day.

School. Etiquette class. Cello lessons. Training for the Hunger Games. The list dragged on and on.

Kelsea's parents would pick her up from one activity and take her to the next. At thirteen years of age, she would much rather have spent her free time with friends. But she didn't have enough energy to keep up with her social life anymore. Her "friends" had stopped inviting her to hang out a long time ago.

"How much homework do you have tonight, Kelsea?" Her father questioned, unlocking their front door.

She didn't answer. All she could think about was how tired her feet were, how empty her stomach was, and how the sun had nearly gone down for the night. Another day wasted. Thankfully, her mother had dinner prepared. The warm scent of salmon greeted Kelsea's nose as she walked into their spacious house.

Her parents proceeded to ask all sorts of questions pertaining to her many classes, as was routine. Kelsea gave short answers, eating as slowly as she dared. After this, she would do homework for the rest of the night until it was time to go to bed. Sitting at the dinner table with her family was the closest thing to a break. Even if her parents and her little brother were terrible company.

While Dylan was prattling on about school, Kelsea remembered an idea she had been entertaining for a long while. She waited for a lapse in the conversation…when it came, she shyly lifted her head from her plate and asked in a quiet voice, "Mom, Dad…can I ask you something?"

Her parents exchanged a surprised glance. Kelsea hardly ever spoke out.

Taking a deep breath, she told them that she wanted to drop one of her many classes. "There's just not enough time to get my homework done…" She explained, "And I need some time to relax too. It's just…everything is really stressing me out."

By the way their expressions darkened, Kelsea immediately regretted telling this to them.

"Why this all of the sudden?" Her father said gruffly, "You've been doing fine up until now!"

Kelsea felt a flash of irritation, but tried to remain stoic. "I know, but my classes are getting more difficult. I just don't want my grades to suffer."

She thought this approach would easily convince her parents to let her drop a class. But to her horror, it was quickly backfiring.

"Why don't you drop training for the Hunger Games?" Her mother suggested.

"That's the one class I like." Kelsea replied in an icy tone of voice, "Besides, it's good to do that in case I get reaped…"

"You're not going to get reaped!" Her father growled, "We live in a Career district! Even if you were reaped, someone would surely volunteer!"

"That's right. Now put your dishes away," Her mother told her, "Go get started on your homework. I don't want you falling behind."

"But…!"

"We'll talk about this another time. If you're dropping anything, it's going to be your training."

Kelsea wanted to rebel. She wanted to quit every single one of those stinking classes, all of which her parents had forced her into. Except for training, of course. She wanted to continue with that for the rest of her teenage years. But all she could do was quietly obey her mother's orders. As she was exiting the dining room, a wave of emotion suddenly swept over her. Tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. Instead of scaling the staircase to her room, she slipped quietly at the back door of the house.

Then she took off. Holding back tears, she ran in the direction of the beach, which was less than a mile from their rich neighborhood. The clogs she was wearing bit into her heels and she kicked them off, leaving them in the road. The sun washed ground burned her feet, but she kept going.

In a few minutes, she could see waves shimmering on the horizon. The ground beneath her turned to sand and she slowed her pace. Sighing, she dug her toes into the cool ground and felt relief wash over her. The sea breeze whipped up her hair and coated her dress in sand particles. Mother would be furious.

Her chest tightened at the thought of her parents. Why were they so controlling? _Don't they care about what _I _want?_ Kelsea thought sadly, sinking down into the sand. She gazed at the area where the ocean met the land. Trails of footprints wound their way up and down the beach. But the people who had left them had all gone home for the night. The sun had nearly set and tomorrow would be another long day…

Kelsea just sat and lost herself in the rhythm of the ocean. The constant crash of the waves was easy on the ears. Every so often, a seagull came strutting over, cocking its head at her. It would keep her company for a minute or so, then fly away when it realized she had nothing to offer. _Just like everyone else. _She thought morosely, thinking of her friends from school.

As the last shred of sunlight melted into the endless expanse of water, Kelsea stood up. It was time to go home. But just as she turned to go, a drawn out cry of pain reached her ears. She looked at the ocean with wide eyes, wondering if she was hearing things. But then it came again.

A chill ran up her spine. It belonged to a human.

She whipped her head back and forth, trying to find the source. But the constant motion of the waves was blurring her vision. She needed to get to higher ground.

Spotting a dock not too far away, she began to sprint in that direction. As her feet hit the wooden planks, the screams doubled in intensity. That was when she spotted him. A young boy was thrashing around in the water, at least twenty feet from the edge of the dock.

Fear and uncertainty overwhelmed Kelsea. "Someone, help!" She screamed, looking around frantically, "He's drowning!" But the beach remained deserted.

Kelsea pounded down the length of the dock. But then she stopped short, poised on the edge, as if she were going to dive off and swim to the boy's rescue. But she remained rooted to that spot. _I can't swim… _She thought, at a complete loss on what to do. She considered running off to find someone, but that would take too long. And there was no way she could jump in or else she would suffer the same fate. _All I can do is stand here and watch him die…_

Suddenly, a flash of white caught her eye. A tugboat was passing by, farther out. It was her only chance. Kelsea began jumping up and down frantically, waving her arms. "Help!" She screamed, as loud as she could, louder than ever before. She was surprised by the sounds that came out of her throat. Despite being quiet for most of her life, she was capable of producing incredible amounts of volume.

But the boat just sped through the water, showing no signs of stopping. Kelsea searched the waters for the struggling boy. Then she saw him—he was paddling strongly towards her. He wasn't drowning at all! But his green eyes were filled with an immeasurable amount of fear. He had barely managed to cover half the distance between them when a large shark burst out of the water and scoured his face with his teeth.

Kelsea started shrieking as the terrible beast dragged the boy under the water. At this point, the men on the boat heard her cries and swerved towards her. She motioned frantically to where the boy had disappeared. He resurfaced, gasping for air. Kelsea bit back a cry at the sight of him.

Half of his face was covered in blood. Neat puncture wounds represented where the shark had dug in its teeth. The water around the boy was turning red and he was starting to sink.

Just as the fight was going out of him, the fisherman came to his rescue. With large fishing rods, they beat away at the shark. One man hoisted the injured boy on board while the rest of them held the monster at bay. But it was crazed with bloodlust, practically leaping out of the water to get at the humans on the boat.

Thinking fast, one of the fishermen grabbed a large fish and tossed it to the shark. The shark caught the treat in its mouth and disappeared under the water, like some sort of demented dog. Kelsea just watched numbly, frozen on the dock.

The tugboat pulled up next to her. One of the fishermen was dialing an emergency number on an ancient-looking phone. Another was pressing cloths to the boy's head, trying to stop the flow of blood. It seemed to take ages for help to arrive. When it finally did, they whisked the boy away as fast as possible. All that remained was the bloodstain smeared on the floor of the tugboat.

"You saved that boy's life!" A fisherman exclaimed, jolting Kelsea out of her stupor.

She blinked at him, trying to regain control of her senses. "No I didn't," She said in a flat voice, her throat raw from screaming, "You and your crew did all of the work."

"True, but we never woulda seen him if it wasn't for you! You're a hero." The fisherman said, giving her a crooked smile. She shivered inwardly at his lack of teeth.

She just shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"Gotta watch out for them bull sharks," The man went on to say, "Awfully territorial…and they like shallow water. Be careful next time you're out swimming, ya hear, missy?" He tipped her hat to her, and then boarded his boat with the rest of his crew. The boat chugged off. Kelsea watched it go. She could still hear catches of their conversations…they were congratulating one another.

_I'm not a hero. _Kelsea thought, starting for home, _I was only there to get away from my parents. You might as well call _them _heroes._

As Kelsea entered the front door of her home, her parents bore down upon her. "Where have you been?!" Her mother demanded in a shrill voice. "And where on earth are your shoes?!"

Oops. Kelsea looked guiltily at her dirty feet. She had forgotten to grab her clogs on the way back. _Oh well. A hobo can have them. _

"We were worried sick!" Her father exclaimed. "Don't ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry…" Kelsea said, and went on to tell them everything that had happened. As she relayed the story of the boy's rescue, she couldn't help but feel a warm glow. It felt good to save lives. Maybe she really _was _a hero.

But her parents didn't share in her pride.

"Don't ever run off like that again!" Her father scolded, "You're grounded for a month, young lady. And you won't be training for the Hunger Games anymore, you can be sure of that!"

Kelsea's eyes went wide with shock. "Didn't you hear what I said…?" She whispered, feeling hurt.

"Don't talk back to your father!" Her mother retaliated, "Now scoot! It's time for bed!"

"Haha! Kelsea's going to bed earlier than meee!" Dylan jeered, crouching on the stairs.

Hanging her head, Kelsea did as her parents wished. She could feel tears threatening to blossom, but she pushed them away. Crying never did anyone good. So she sullenly headed to bed, curling up under the covers and trying to shove all of her emotions away. The memory of the boy and the shark kept haunting her, and she began to feel bitter over it.

_Stupid boy. Why would you go swimming alone? Now I can't even train for the Hunger Games anymore…it's not fair! I saved that boy's life, didn't I? Why couldn't they be happy for me…just once?_

_Screw people._

She scrunched her eyes shut, frustrated that sleep wouldn't come any faster. More than anything, she wanted a throwing star in her hand. She wanted to sink one into a target and release some of this anger. But all of the weapons were at the academy.

_Well, I'll just have to steal some the next time I'm there, _She decided, _Nothing's going to stop me from training. It's my outlet. It's the only thing I have to live for…I won't let my parents take that away from me._

_Not ever._

**Nearly forgot to put a hint. How about this: A creature that makes an appearance in the Harry Potter series. There's a lot of them, so good luck!  
**


	10. Hapi Birthday

**So far it seems like the girl characters are getting most of the votes. I need moar sausage, moar sausage! /shot/**

**On a more depressing note, you know what I realized? All of the victors except for the main ones were killed in the purge after the 75****th**** Hunger Games. So that means…yeah…I don't know why it took me so long to think of that. :( I think a sad outtake of this is in our future. But not until the 44****th**** is done with. Then we can explore how all three of our victors died! And cry in a corner.**

**Speaking of which, are the victors being used as prostitutes discouraged from getting married? I was under that impression for some reason, but then I tried looking it up and I didn't see anything.  
**

The end of another school day didn't bring any relief for the students of District 8. After a hard day of classes, most of them went straight to the factories, backpacks in tow. They would put in a long four-hour shift; then, they would finally head home for the night, the daylight hours having already passed.

Hapi waited patiently for the bell, his pencil scratching busily away at a piece of paper. He wasn't taking notes—he had tuned out the teacher more than an hour ago. Instead, he was designing concept art for new masks he wanted to create.

His business was starting to pick up. The mayor himself had made a request for Hapi's magnificent creations, for his spoiled daughter was celebrating her sixteenth birthday. The young girl had requested a masquerade theme for her party. Hapi's masks were cheap and crafted beautifully—but every mask had to be different. Of course, the birthday girl had to have a mask more stunning than anyone else's. It was a big order to fill, but Hapi would be sure to do it. He had already gathered all of the materials he would need...it hadn't been cheap, but the mayor would overcompensate for it.

A bell rang, snapping Hapi out of his stupor. Students around him wearily began to pack up their stuff, chatting to their friends about plans for the weekend. As Hapi neatly tucked away his papers, he couldn't help but overhear a nearby conversation between a group of boys.

"…and when she comes home, we'll all jump up and scream, 'surprise!' You don't even have to know her; we're just trying to get as many people as possible to come. And there'll be a ton of food and it's free, so…"

"You had me at food. I'm in."

"Me too."

"Awesome…hey, Hapi!"

Hapi looked up as one of the boys came jogging over to his desk. With a tug of guilt, he realized he didn't know his classmate's name. He recalled it was one of those typical District 8 names, some sort of pun, but he still had no idea what it was. So he greeted the boy with a polite hello.

"You doing anything tonight? My family's throwing a huge party." His fellow student told him.

Hapi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the occasion?"

The boy shrugged. "My little sister's turning ten. We're throwing a huge surprise party…you can bum a meal."

Hapi narrowed his eyes, hoping the boy wasn't taking a jab at his recent weight loss, or the fact that he was living in poverty. But his classmate's eyes showed no signs of contempt, so Hapi smiled and told him, "Thank you for the kind offer, but I'm very busy. Tell your sister I said happy birthday."

On that note, he scooped up his backpack and went on his way. Behind him, he could hear one of the boys sniggering, "Hapi birthday. Get it? His name's Hapi…"

It was a long walk home. As he plodded along a dirt road, Hapi regarded the idea of birthday parties. He saw no reason to celebrate…yes; turning ten was a pretty big deal. You were finally able to add two digits to your name. But that meant you were one step closer to having your name in the Reaping bowl. How was that cause for a celebration?

He had to admit, though, it was nice to have a family that wanted to throw you a big party for no good reason. And handing out food to strangers such as he…they must have had big hearts. He felt bad he couldn't remember their son's name. Still, he wanted none of their charity. He would provide for himself.

Tears suddenly pricked Hapi's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. No one had said "happy birthday" to him when he turned 15 this year. He missed celebrating his birthday with his family. Even though they never threw a huge party, just spending the day with his parents was enough. They would eat a nice meal and each present him with a gift and...

No. He didn't want to think about it.

As he arrived home, Hapi walked inside and put his book bag on the couch. He glanced at the half-finished masks on what he considered his workshop table. He would have to finish them by next week for the mayor's daughter and her party. _Why so many birthdays all of the sudden? _Hapi wondered, picking up one of his carving knives. It was his smallest one, the one he used for fine details. He stared at one of the masks, going through its creation process in his mind, mapping everything out. Then his stomach gave a loud groan, interrupting his train of thought.

Oh well. He would worry about work after he got something to eat. With the knife in hand, he left his miniscule house and set off for the thin set of woods that skirted the district. It was easy getting under the fence, for some wild creature had dug a decent-sized hole when it decided that it didn't want to be contained. Hapi could easily slip to the other side, skinny as he was.

Once he had concealed himself, he chucked the knife at a tree a few times, warming up. He watched, satisfied, as it sunk into the thick bark and stuck there. He was getting better, that was for sure. The squirrels and rabbits had better watch out.

Hapi pried the knife out of the tree, knowing that he didn't have as much time to hunt today, and began scouring the woods for any signs of life. But the forest was silent. Berry bushes had been picked clean by birds that refused to show themselves. Still, he kept his eyes peeled for any signs of movement.

There! In a flash of gray, a squirrel burst from its cover and started skittering up a tree, chirruping an alarm call as it went. But Hapi had already released the knife. The dagger soared through the air and caught the squirrel on its haunch. The rodent tumbled to the ground with the knife sunk deep into its flesh.

Hapi thought he had it—but to his surprise, the squirrel somehow got to its feet and scrambled away. He pursued, suddenly fearful that he would lose one of his best knives. _No! _He senses screamed, _I need that to fulfill the mayor's request...! _He could only watch helplessly as the injured squirrel outdistanced him and made off with his knife.

Just when he had nearly lost sight of it, a red fox sprang up from behind a rock and pounced on the squirrel. It caught the rodent neatly in its jaws and snapped the poor creature's neck. Then it began trotting away with its catch, the knife still dangling from the squirrel's corpse.

"HEY!" Hapi shouted, fearlessly sprinting towards fox while waving his arms. The fox jumped in surprise, stumbling over the squirrel's tail. Its prey flew from its jaws and the vulpine bounded away in terror.

Sighing in relief, Hapi jogged up and retrieved his knife. He picked up the squirrel too, pleased that he had obtained both. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the fox watching him hungrily from a withered cluster of bushes. Acknowledging that the predator could be rabid, Hapi turned and walked quickly away, in the direction of home. But every time he glanced back, the fox was there, following him.

Whenever he looked, it shrunk back, as if it could force itself to disappear into the ground. Then he would continue on his way, but hear the padded footsteps of the fox following him. Hapi applauded the fox's persistence, but this was _his _kill. He had seen it first and he certainly wasn't going to give it up.

Hapi entered his house without a second glance at the fox and closed the door securely behind him. He quickly took a seat and began to strip the squirrel of its fur. As he did so, he heard a soft scratching on the door. He paused, listening intently.

The scratching continued for a full minute, accompanied by soft whining. Then there was a frustrated bark and the noise stopped. Hapi chuckled a bit and returned to his work. After removing what little meat there was from the body of the squirrel, he located an old carrot and half a potato in his cupboard. _Looks like a trip to the market is in order for this weekend… _He thought, chopping up the vegetables.

He combined everything into a pot, added water, and then got a fire started. Just as the makeshift stew began to cook, Hapi heard a soft pitter-patter on his roof. It was starting to rain.

He went to the window and looked outside. His eyebrows shot straight up when he spotted the fox curled up in a tight little ball on his doorstep. It was huddling under the little bit of roof that covered the step, but it wasn't doing much for it. Hapi could see raindrops shining on the matted red coat.

Pushing away his pity, Hapi returned to his work. He switched between carving a mask and stirring the soup. But for some reason, he kept returning to the window to check on the fox. It had started shivering. He wished it would just go away. _It's interfering with my work! _He thought, disgruntled. He tried to focus on mask making and put the fox from his mind.

The intoxicating smell of food began to fill up his house and his mouth watered at the prospect of dinner. When the stew had reached a boil, all he could think about was his hunger. He quickly scooped his meal into a bowl and began to wolf it down. He could feel the tasty broth sliding down into his stomach. He reveled in its warmth.

Only when his stomach was full, and he was scooping out the leftovers, did he remember the fox. He looked at the bowl in his hand. This would serve as a meal for him tomorrow; he couldn't spare it.

_Well…not really a meal, _He thought, sloshing the contents around and frowning, _more like an appetizer…no, not even that._ He glanced towards the door. _You know, the fox _was _the one to actually catch the squirrel._

He gave his head a little shake. "What are you thinking?" He mumbled to himself, headed to put the leftovers in the fridge, "If you start feeding wild animals, you'll have the entire forest on your doorstep…"

But instead of walking to the fridge, he suddenly made a right turn to look out his front window. The doorstep was bare. The fox had gone. _See? It left. _He told himself, feeling a flash of disappointment. He stood there for a while, just staring at the empty spot where the fox had been curled up, shivering.

A sense of loneliness stole over Hapi and his chest felt tight with sorrow. _Maybe it'll come back. _He decided, throwing open the door and setting the bowl down. He went back inside, shut the door, and hurriedly took a seat by the window. He kept his head low, waiting for the fox to appear.

Minutes ticked by. Nothing happened. _What am I doing? _Hapi thought dully, all of his hope draining away. _I have work to do. _But just as he rose to his feet, the fox come prancing around the corner of the house. Hapi dropped back down, watching as the vulpine approached the bowl warily, nostrils flaring. His heart was pounding in his chest, silently willing the creature to eat its fill.

The fox poked out its tongue and took a tentative dab at the watery brew. Hapi could see its great bushy tail give a pleased wag. Then, instead of licking the bowl clean as expected, the fox gripped it neatly in its jaws, and took off with it.

Hapi just watched, stunned. The fox zipped towards the woods, holding its prize proudly, not spilling a single drop. It neatly slipped under the fence and was gone.

Hapi just sat there, dumbfounded, wondering what he had just witnessed. A fox had made off with his tableware. Peals of laughter broke free from his mouth, and before he knew it, he was clutching his stomach and gasping for air. He didn't know why he found it so funny, but he did. He took the fox's squirrel—it took his bowl as vengeance. The whole thing seemed ridiculous.

Wiping away a tear, Hapi got up and shuffled back to his desk. As he picked up his tools and resumed working, he replayed the fox's antics over and over in his mind. It kept him going into the night. When he was done, he smiled and allowed himself a luxurious stretch. He had made much progress—no doubt, he would be able to meet the deadline the mayor had set for him.

Grinning, Hapi cleaned up his quaint workshop for the day and got ready for bed. Before going to sleep, he glanced outside his window. The doorstep was deserted, but Hapi wasn't worried.

Something told him the fox would be back.

**Aww. Gotta love Hapi and Keata. Here's your hint: The TV show Lost (best show ever!) added inspiration to the arena. Now I need to think up more hints...and chapters...or maybe I should just study and do homework like a smart person.  
**


	11. Because She Left

**Hey, to start I have an advertisement for skyline99's SYOT! They're currently seeking to gain tributes. Check it out, and if you submit one, be sure to root for my dear little tribute, Pandora. :)  
**

**Anyways, I ran out of ideas but at least three of you said you wanted to see a Cole chapter so I thought I'd just cater to you guys for this one. It's an AU of what could've happened if he and Channa had run away. **

"Channa…what would you say if I asked you to come away with me?"

She should have said no. She knew the Careers would hunt them down for it. And she didn't want to betray Hip, her district partner. But something about Cole seemed so genuine when he told her she could be strong without them. His soft blue eyes contained no signs of guile. She couldn't turn him down.

"Okay," Channa whispered, excitement pulsing in her veins, "Let's go."

Cole's face practically lit up in the dark. Wordlessly, he pulled Channa close to him and hugged her. She tried to relax in his embrace, but her heart was pounding uncontrollably as she sorted through the implications of this plan in her head.

"Don't worry," He murmured, as if sensing her discomfort, "I'll look after you."

Together, they rose to their feet and trod silently towards the Cornucopia. The other three Careers were huddled on the sleeping bags, silent and unmoving. Cole spared a glance at them as he passed by. _It would be dangerous to stay with them for much longer… _He thought, eyeing the spear Sienna clutched in her little hand. Words couldn't begin describe his relief when Channa said she would come with him. As the most useless member of the group—at least, according to the others—then his demise couldn't be far off.

"GOTCHA!" A loud yelp nearly sent Cole fleeing into the dark.

But he paused, taking a moment to observe the source of the danger. It was Hip; he was flailing about in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. His voice rose in volume at random intervals. Cole could pick out a few words…from what he gathered, Hip was still murdering tributes in his sleep. A chill ran up his spine.

"Jeez, that scared me." Channa's breath tickled his ear, "Come on, let's get out of here."

Cole turned to look at her. She was standing there with three backpacks dangling off of her, and her sai gripped in her hands. Cole couldn't help but chuckle. "Here, let me help you." He offered, taking two of the backpacks from her.

Channa offered him a sweet smile. "Thanks. Do you have your knives?"

"Oh…those are kind of important." He spotted them at the edge of the sleeping mass of Careers. Quietly, he gathered them up and tucked them away, careful not to disturb any of the tributes.

Channa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, weapons are _kind of _important." She said sarcastically.

Cole felt a flash of hurt, though he tried not to show it. He hoped his blunder wouldn't affect Channa's decision.

He sighed gratefully when she began to move off, saying in a hushed voice, "Okay, now let's go! Before Hip's sleep-talking wakes them all up."

Cole nodded, catching up to Channa to walk in stride with her. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed her hand, twining his fingers with her. She didn't protest.

Together, they escaped into the darkness.

* * *

A minute after they left, Sienna got up and followed them. Unable to sleep, she had heard every last word. She could care less about their betrayal—if anything; the Games had just gotten more interesting. She could kill them without any repercussions now.

But not yet. Instead, she kept to the shadows, tracking them. They selected a building and disappeared inside. A small smirk crossed Sienna's face.

_Trapped like rats._

Still, she would deal with them tomorrow, with the rest of her alliance. After all, in the words of Channa, a growing girl needed her rest…

* * *

"Wake up."

Hip groaned, trying to force open his eyes. Light flooded his vision and he immediately snapped them shut. "Five more minutes." He mumbled.

Bridon grunted an agreement from the far side of the sleeping bag.

Sienna gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Fine, maybe this will wake you up: Channa and Cole left last night and took three of our backpacks. They _betrayed _us."

Hip and Bridon were instantly awake. Bridon shot to his feet, looking furious. "WHAT?" He snarled, a vein throbbing at his temple.

Hip just sat there, looking dazed. "…Channa left?" He repeated in a quiet voice.

Bridon rounded on him. "Did you know anything about this?!" He demanded angrily.

Hip jumped to his feet, fearlessly facing up to Bridon, despite their dramatic height difference. "Of course not!" He growled, glaring at the older Career, "Use your head, why don't you? Why would I still be hanging around this joint if I were in cahoots with them?!"

Bridon glowered down at Hip, but said nothing. The answer was obvious.

"Calm down." Sienna said, smirking, "I saw the building they went into…we'll just hunt them down, kill them, and take back the stuff they stole." She shrugged, like there was nothing to it.

Bridon backed down. "All right," He agreed gruffly, "Let's get ready to go."

They woke up by splashing water on their faces and scarfed down breakfast in an odd silence. Sienna looked to Hip, who appeared to be sulking. "Don't worry about it, Hip. We'll all be dead soon enough." _Except for me. _She added silently.

"I'm not worried." Hip said in a light voice, avoiding eye contact, "I just think it's funny Channa would run off with some smelly District 5 kid."

Bridon snorted. "Smelly?"

"Well yeah…all District 5 kids smell." Hip said matter-of-factly.

"That's just a stereotype." Sienna pointed out.

Hip lifted his chin defiantly. "Well, there's a bit of truth behind every stereotype." He said in a superior tone of voice.

Bridon and Sienna exchanged a glance. "Even the District 1 stereotypes?"

"What are the District 1 stereotypes?" Hip asked curiously, lifting up his mace and slinging it over his shoulder. The three of them set off while Sienna tried to hold back a derisive laugh. Bridon remained silent, focused on what lay ahead. "Tell me!" Hip said, sounding insulted.

"Well, it's common knowledge in District 2 that everyone is District 1 is undeniably beautiful, but they have no brains to speak of…none, whatsoever." Sienna snickered.

Hip puffed out his chest. "Heh. I _am _pretty beautiful, aren't I?"

* * *

Channa woke up with her head resting on Cole's chest. After locating a safe place in the building, she had instantly fallen asleep, leaving Cole to watch over her. They switched off periodically during the night. Channa had spent her waking hours on edge, half-expecting the Careers to come barreling after them. But the night was calm.

Now, it was morning. The rising sun glinted on the skyscrapers, casting warmth and light down onto the arena. For some reason, this only heightened Channa's paranoia. The blanket of darkness that had enfolded them had also seemed to protect them during their escape. With the sun out, she felt extremely exposed.

But Cole was there to calm her. "We'll just stay here for the day," He told her soothingly, combing his fingers through her hair, "We have plenty of food and water…we're safe here."

"We can't just _sit _here." Channa murmured, feeling a flash of frustration.

"Yes we can," Cole laughed quietly.

Channa pushed herself up, tearing out of Cole's grasp. "I'm a Career." She said firmly.

Cole just looked at her blankly.

Working her magic, she pushed out her lower lip and batted her eyelashes. "Please, Cole. Just sitting here, waiting for them to find us…I don't like it." She said, adding just the right touch of sadness to her tone.

Cole was easily manipulated. "Okay," He agreed, "I've been wanting to explore the arena anyways. Can we go to the amusement park?"

"Of course we can." She smiled, "Now let's eat breakfast and get going…we should hide our stuff here so it doesn't weigh us down."

"Good idea!" Cole said, full of praise, "You always know what to do Channa!"

She gave a light laugh. _Oh, Cole._ _Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to leave with him…he does anything I ask, and he would never dream of hurting me. He's definitely more trustworthy than the others. Still, I feel bad for taking advantage of…no. No, I don't. _Once again, she had to scold herself for caring.

After a quick meal, she secured her swords on her person as Cole picked out his sharpest knife. Then they set off for the amusement park. As they went, they held a cheerful conversation on which tribute they would most like to kill.

"Definitely Frederick or Abbadon…" Channa was saying as they tramped down the boardwalk, "But I'd like to stab that little District 11 brat too. She's escaped us _twice _now. Of course, third time's a charm…"

"I don't really have anyone I'd like to see dead." Cole said thoughtfully, "Except maybe Sienna. She scares me."

"…Me too." Channa admitted.

They both laughed, finding their mutual fear of the little girl to be rather entertaining. At this point, they reached the amusement park. Channa glanced around warily, on guard for any approaching Careers. Cole, however, was calm.

"Wow, look at all of this!" He said, motioning to the colorful array of rides and games, "What should we do first?"

Channa pulled a face. "Um, I don't know, find a tribute to kill?"

But Cole was already running off towards the games section, where each station was covered in blinking lights. He went straight to the crane game, with the Head Gamemaker's face hovering over it.

"Channa, come look at this!" He called, just a little bit too loud.

"Shut up!" She hissed, eyes darting side to side, "Don't forget where we are, Cole!"

His eyes widened apologetically. "You're right. I'm so sorry!"

Channa couldn't help but smirk. He reminded her of a golden retriever…eager to please, but terribly desolate at the smallest criticism. It made him all the more charming. "It's fine. But don't bother with that game…there's no way to pay for it. And you can't bust through it either. Hip already tried." She felt a pang of loss at the thought of Hip. _Was he doing all right? Or had Bridon taken out his anger on him?_

Cole turned back to the glass box, observing it. Then, without warning, he jammed his palm down onto a needle. Channa clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming as blood spurted forth. Cole slapped the hand down on some sort of scanner and the game came to life.

"Cole…!" Channa exclaimed, still feeling a bit unsettled by the sudden display of violence.

Cole grinned at her, clenching his bloody fist. "Any preference?" He asked, pointing to the prizes inside the case with his good hand.

"The grenade." Channa replied, putting on an angelic smile. "We can use it to blow up Sienna."

"Sounds like a plan." Cole took hold of the controls and began to move the claw to the correct position.

"I wonder what the others are up to…" Channa murmured, watching him go.

"They probably haven't even woken up yet." Cole said, lowering the claw. It scraped uselessly at the grenade, then rose back up, empty-handed. "Shoot! I'm gonna try again." He deposited more blood.

"You're right," Channa sighed, continuing their conversation, "They're always so slow to get started in the morning."

Cole nodded. "They won't start hunting for tributes until it's well past noon."

"Or maybe we got an early start today."

Cole flinched and Channa gave a small cry of surprise. They whipped around to see Bridon, Sienna, and Hip standing behind them, armed with their weapons. Hip was the one who had spoken. He was glaring at Cole with narrowed brown eyes. The other two were focused on Channa. A chill ran up her spine as she locked eyes with Sienna and her hands groped for the swords at her side. She secretly hoped the little devil hadn't heard her wisecrack about blowing her up.

She forced a smile and lied, "Hey guys! We just wanted to get an early start today…we were gonna come back right after-!"

"You're lying." Sienna said in a voice laced with ice, "I heard every word of your conversation and I saw you leave with the backpacks."

"The Careers don't take kindly to traitors." Bridon said fiercely, glowering at Channa.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. She definitely wasn't getting out of this one.

Cole felt as if his chest might burst from fear, but he forced himself to remain calm. Brushing against Channa, he murmured, "I'll protect you."

Hip let out a bark of laughter. "_You _protect _her_? You're not even a true Career! We should have just killed you back in the Bloodbath…"

Cole looked at Hip and recalled how they had fought side by side during the Bloodbath. Of course, that didn't seem to matter anymore. Hip turned his gaze to Channa, his eyes full of hostility, but the usual smirk planted on his face.

"It's too bad you made the mistake of running off with _this _loser, Channa. I was actually starting to like you…sadly, I still don't think I could kill you even if I tried." His grin broadened. "Good thing I have Sienna and Bridon here to do it for me."

Channa's eyes narrowed to slits, but before she could respond, Bridon spoke up.

"Enough talk," He growled, "Let's just get this over with."

"I call Cole!" Sienna piped up.

Hip turned and frowned at her. "Now wait a second. I _just _said…"

With a loud battle cry, Cole launched himself straight at Hip, knife raised high over his head. Hip gave a jerk of surprise and tried to dodge, but he was one second too slow. Cole dug the knife into the dark-haired boy's back and the terrible sound of ripping flesh filled the air.

In the same moment, Sienna lashed out with her spear and stabbed Cole's thigh. He cried out and released Hip, stumbling backwards. His knife slipped from his hand, remaining lodged in Hip's back. Channa jumped into the fray, going to Cole's aid. In the same instant, Bridon slashed his knife at her. She raised one of her swords, blocking him from doing any damage.

He drew back and drove he knife forward once more, but she dodged. She was faster than Bridon. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cole and Sienna wrestling for the little girl's spear. Hip was staggering to his feet, bringing the mace back to throw it.

"Cole, look out!" Channa shrieked. She flung herself forward, narrowly missing being impaled by Bridon's knife. She flew towards Hip, her twin swords whistling as they cut through air.

Hindered by the knife in his back, Hip couldn't get away in time. With a single swipe, Channa carved a neat red gash across his jugular. His eyes widened with hurt. Blood sprayed from the wound, coating him in sticky red liquid. Then he sunk to his knees, his face grim with defeat.

Channa gasped and felt tears spring to her eyes as she realized what she had done. "Hip…!" She choked out, "I'm so sorr-!"

In that instant, Bridon grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her head back. He pressed his blade to her throat and sliced it open before she could even scream.

"NO!" Cole shrieked, his voice raw with grief. He watched helplessly as Channa collapsed before his eyes, like a marionette without strings. He sunk to the ground, just staring at her, willing her to get up. Tears streamed down his face, but he hardly noticed. _Please get up! You can't be dead…you just can't be!_

The cannon sounded twice in a row, confirming that District 1 was out of the running for this year. Cole let out a sorrowful wail. Cursing, Bridon yanked him up by his hair, cutting off the pitiful sound. He shoved Cole forward so that he was face to face with the bodies of Hip and Channa.

"You see?" Bridon snarled, "You have only yourself to thank for this!"

Cole could only whimper in response. Channa looked beautiful even in death. Crimson blood pooled from her throat, mixing with Hip's, who was curled on the ground beside her. Cole could see the knife sticking out of the boy's back. At the sight of it, revenge burned in him like a flame, molding with the sorrow he felt.

He lunged forward, aiming to grab it, but Bridon yanked him backwards. Pain shot through the roots of his hair and he cried out. Letting loose another curse word, Bridon heaved him at the pavement. Cole hit the ground hard, smashing his forehead into it. Pain reverberated throughout his body and his vision blurred.

"Get out of here," Came Bridon's deep voice, "Go drown in your guilt…we'll kill you later."

Cole stumbled to his feet and ran for his life. Sobs ripped from his throat as he went, the image of Channa lying dead on the ground forever seared into his mind.

Bridon gave him five seconds head start. Then he looked to Sienna. "Kill him."

A cruel smile crossed her face as she brought her arm back to throw the spear.

**I think it's safe to assume the District 2 Careers would've stolen the show from here. Also, I was listening to songs that suit Cole and Hip for this chapter. "Must Have Done Something Right" by Relient K for Cole and "Beg" by Evans Blue for Hip seemed pretty fitting. Uhh, let's see here, hint, hint…**

**Can't think of a good one so I'll just tell you the chapter title. Final Judgment: The 44****th**** Hunger Games. Heh, doesn't tell you much, does it? Then again, maybe it does…**


	12. Career Training

**Happy almost-Thanksgiving vacation! Just three more days to go! Clearly, I'm out of ideas, so I've just been taking them from you guys. Here we join our beloved Careers training the week of the 42****nd**** Reaping…**

**District 1**

_Hey baby, the name's Hip and I am going to HopROCK your world…ugh. No, that's terrible. _Hip thought, idly spinning his mace as he eyed a group of pretty girls in the vicinity. They were seated at the work out station, chattering away as they lifted weights. Everyone was trying to get in some last minute training before the Reaping that would be taking place this weekend.

Hip, meanwhile, was more concerned with thinking up a good pickup line for the ladies. _Ah, screw it. _He decided,_ I'm better at flirting spontaneously. _With a shrug, he began to head over to the mess of workout machines. He had his eyes currently set on the abs-builder, but before he could reach it, he heard a snatch of conversation that immediately diverted his attention.

"…could put in a good word for you, if you're interested in volunteering this year."

It was one of the older victors who served as a trainer. He was talking to a blonde-haired boy that Hip recognized from school, although he couldn't quite recall his name. Not that it mattered. He paused, listening to the boy's response.

"I'm afraid I must decline. I would prefer to wait until I'm older."

Hip rolled his eyes. _What a pansy. I'll show him what's what. _He fearlessly charged over and announced, "Hey, I'll volunteer if he doesn't want to!"

The blonde-haired boy whipped around and glared at him icily. "Were you eavesdropping?" He demanded furiously.

Hip looked at the other 15-year old in surprise, as if he had just realized his presence. "Oh, hey. Riffraff, right? Sorry for butting in, but if you don't mind…"

"_Saffron_." Saffron corrected with a scowl, "One of your low status, however, should address me as—"

"Whatever. Anyways, if you're looking for a male tribute for this year, I got you covered." He told the victor, puffing out his chest with pride.

The older man frowned, looking Hip up and down. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if you're prepared to represent our district in the Games."

"I'm the same age as Schmoozy over here!" Hip protested, pointing to Saffron.

Saffron narrowed his eyes, grumbling, "Idiotic peasant…" under his breath.

"Look, Hip," The trainer said, visibly irritated, "You just don't take training seriously enough! I see you fooling around, chasing after girls…I'm not blind! Plenty of kids here work hard for a chance to compete, and compared to them, you don't _deserve _it."

Saffron's lips curled into a derisive sneer, only fueling Hip's rage. "I work hard!" Hip growled, "If this doesn't prove it, I don't know what will…"

"Put your shirt back on, mongrel!" Saffron snapped. "Have you no sense of dignity?!"

"Yes, please do, this is getting ridiculous." Their trainer said firmly.

Disappointed at the lack of six-pack appreciation, Hip slipped his workout shirt back on. He could hear a few sighs and turned his head to see a group of young teenage girls marveling at him. He grinned, his confidence returned in an instant.

"Hip," The trainer said, interrupting his thoughts, "If you work hard in the next few years, maybe you could volunteer as tribute. But not this year. We already have a few candidates lined up for it, anyways."

"I understand." Hip said in a polite voice, trying to hide his mischievous smile, "I promise I'll do my best, sir!" He turned on his heel and sauntered off to find the girls that had been checking him out.

The old victor let out an exasperated sigh. "There's no controlling that kid. Ah, well…would you like to go over some more sword training?"

"Please, we've been through this already." Saffron said crossly, "I've surpassed your skill and you no longer present a challenge for me. Fighting you is a waste of time!" With that, he turned and marched away.

The victor gritted his teeth. _God, I hate this job…_

Done with sword training for the day, Saffron decided he might as well lift some weights. He snatched up some dumbbells and began rhythmically curling his arms. Nearby, a group of older girls were obnoxiously chatting about who they thought the male tribute would be for this year. Saffron blocked them out, focusing on his routine.

"I'm almost 100% sure it's going to be Taurean. What do you think, Channa?" A girl with long blonde hair wondered.

"You may be right, Posey…" Channa said thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the gym, "There's not as many guys vying for the spot this year, is there? Last year, there were a _ton_…"

"Oh yeah, that's right. Poor Dionysus!" A third girl tittered, shaking her head sadly.

Channa remembered how Dionysus had been too slow to claim the spot last year. Well, she would make sure to get up on that stage this year…and if anything went wrong, there was always next year.

"I'm glad Dionysus isn't here anymore. Training is a lot more fun without him around." Channa said, tossing her hair, "He would always boss me around…"

"I kind of miss him." Posey giggled.

Channa shot her a nasty look. "Ugh! Seriously? Do you have a thing for him or something?"

Posey gave a small squeal and buried her face into her hands, while the other girls they were with broke into fits of laughter. Trying to contain a smile, Channa rose to her feet. "Well, I'm off to talk to a trainer about volunteering this weekend. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck, Channa!" Chorused her posse obediently.

Channa gave them a confident wave and sauntered off to find one of the female victors she had grown close to over the years. But as she wandered the training center looking for her, she ran right into a familiar face.

"Oh…hello, Ravish." Channa said, feeling repulsed by the very sight of this girl.

Ravish was rigid, observing Channa with an unfriendly gaze. "Hello, Channa," She said, her voice laced with ice, "I take it you're volunteering this year?"

"Um, _duh_." Channa huffed, rolling her eyes. She couldn't stand Ravish—the girl was always off on her own, acting like she was better than everyone else. And she always got all of this attention from the victors, but she wasn't even that good…well, maybe she was okay, but they treated her like she had already won the freaking Hunger Games!

Ravish hated Channa for completely different reasons. She couldn't stand the way the prissy girl always hung around with her clique, more concerned with boys than with training. People like her didn't _deserve _to be the Hunger Games. Nonetheless, she kept her cool while responding. "Good. Because next year, _I'm _volunteering."

"No offense, but I would advise against that." Channa said, offering Ravish her fakest smile.

Ravish's eyes were dark brown slits. "Uh-huh. And why's that?"

"Because I don't want to be your mentor. _That's _why." Channa said triumphantly. Pleased over having the last word, she whipped around and walked away.

"Then it's a good thing you'll be dead!" Ravish called after her, her temper flaring up.

If Channa had heard her, she didn't acknowledge it. Ravish glowered at her back, then forced herself to turn away. There was work to be done. Only one more year of training, and then it would be time to enter the Games.

Ravish snatched up her rapier and got to work stabbing at dummies. With each strike, she imagined she was piercing the heart of a defenseless tribute, and her anger drained away. She could feel other younger children watching her, admiring her skill. Suddenly, someone was beside her.

"Hey. Name's Taurean. You?" A rather oafish boy grunted, looking at Ravish like she was a piece of meat.

"Ravish." She responded, observing him as a competitor. _I could take this guy down easily…he looks slower than molasses. _"So, I hear you're rumored to be our tribute for this year. Congratulations."

Taurean nodded. "Yeah, that's right. I was just wondering, are you going to be volunteering too…?"

Ravish shook her head. "Not until next year."

"Oh. Okay then." The older boy said. He walked away without another word.

_Goodbye to you, too. _Ravish snorted inwardly. _Oh well. I suppose he's just scoping out the competition._

She returned to training, regarding the possible candidates for this year's Hunger Games. Channa and Taurean. Ugh. Ravish had to try and keep from gagging.

_I think I actually wouldn't mind it if District 1 came home without a win this year…_

**District 2**

"For the last time," Bridon growled in a threatening tone, "This is my last year eligible. I don't intend to give this up for _anyone_." He practically spat out the last word, causing the other boys to flinch.

"But Bridon…" One of the boys began.

"How old are you, anyways?" Bridon said sharply, cutting him off.

"I'm seventeen and Oreon is sixteen." Carter said, shooting a glance at his brother.

"It's not even your last year!" Bridon burst out angrily.

"We know, we know, but come _on_, Bridon." Oreon said testily, "Your dad's already a victor…you have all the money you want! Don't you think you should give the opportunity to another family?"

"No, I don't." Bridon growled, "And it's not about the money…it's about bringing honor to my district." Oreon opened his mouth to protest, but Bridon got right in his face, looming over him. "Get out of here before I show you why I'm going to be District 2's next victor." He said in a dangerous voice.

Carter grabbed his little brother's arm and pulled him away. They retreated to a different part of the gym while Bridon returned to training. There they stood, sulking quietly.

"Well…" Carter said, breaking the silence, "He's right. We still have next year."

"Yeah, but you know everyone's going to be all over Zane." Oreon replied, sounding frustrated, "They treat him like some sort of prodigy…" He glanced to where their youngest brother was running the agility course. Trainers were watching him approvingly, singing out praises.

"If they do wind up picking him, we'll support him all the way." Carter said in a firm voice.

"Right." Oreon mumbled, sounding displeased at the thought of it. "Oh boy, here he comes…"

Zane came jogging over, panting heavily. He offered his older brothers a friendly grin. "Hey guys…how's training going?"

Oreon shrugged. "Eh," was the best response he could manage.

"Not bad. Saw you tearing up the agility course!" Carter said, pounding his little brother on the back.

Zane gave a tired laugh. "Yeah, but I'm on break now. Let's go get some water…"

"Take mine. I don't need it." Oreon said in a flat voice, handing Zane his water bottle. Carter shot him a glare, but Oreon's jealous tone went unnoticed by Zane. Their youngest brother thirstily gulped down the entire bottle.

"So, either of you guys thinking of volunteering?" He said when he had finished.

Carter's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Before he could respond, one of the victors who happened to be walking past called out a warning, "You'd better not be thinking of stealing the opportunity from Bridon! This is _his _year."

"We weren't planning to." Carter said, feeling defensive.

"All right, just making sure." The sturdy victor said, putting his hands on his hips. He turned to face Zane. "You, on the other hand…you'd better be planning to volunteer in the coming years!"

Zane beamed. "Of course!"

The victor gave an approving nod and continued on his way.

"Well, I'd better get back to training," Zane said, shoving his empty bottle in Oreon's hand, "Throw this out for me?" Before his brother could respond, he had rushed off to find something else to do. On his quest, he spotted two teenagers wrapped tightly around one another, making out near the survival skills section of the gym. He just rolled his eyes and continued on his way.

"Addy, honey…we should be…training…" Arrow murmured between kisses.

Adrenaline broke away, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout. "But I'm not allowed to have my name in the Reaping until next yearrr!" She whined, dramatically crumpling to the ground.

Arrow gave a light laugh, working his arms around her torso and lifting her back up. Adrenaline pushed up with her toes and pressed her lips against his once more. Then she pulled away, giving a soft sigh full of anguish, "Seriously though, what's the point? I only have two more years, and someone will probably wind up stealing the opportunity from me again…"

"That's not such a bad thing. For one, we get to be together more…" Arrow tried to kiss her again, but she gave him a rough shove. He stumbled back a few steps, stunned.

"Arrow!" She scolded, sounding offended, "Don't you _want _to be rich and famous?"

Arrow just blinked. "Of course…but I don't want to see you get hurt either." He confessed.

Adrenaline just stared at him. He half-expected her to shove him once more. Instead, she said in a breathy voice, "God, you're hot. Let's make out."

They were immediately locked in another embrace, gracing the training center with their public display of affection. A sudden chill crept up Arrow's spine for some reason. He opened an eye and spotted one of the little girls at the first aid station watching them. He softly broke the kiss and whispered in his girlfriend's ear, "Don't look now, but we're ruining the innocence of a 12-year old…"

Adrenaline just gave a light laugh and nibbled Arrow's ear.

"Come on, let's go somewhere else…" Arrow begged, shooting another glance at the creepy little girl. She was still glaring at them.

"No," Adrenaline said firmly, pulling back to look Arrow directly in the eye, "Let's stay here and make everyone jealous."

And so, they continued with their passionate make out session.

Sienna clenched her little fists furiously. She had thought staring at the obnoxious couple would make them uncomfortable enough to leave, but apparently not. Their only concern seemed to be how far they could stick their tongues down each other's throats. _I'd like to stick my spear down their throats!_

"Sienna, honey, are you paying attention?" A singsong voice interrupted her dark thoughts.

She turned her gaze on the young woman that was currently demonstrating how to wrap a wound for her group of 12-year olds. Sienna was sitting in the front row, but hadn't been paying any attention for the entirety of the lecture.

"First aid is _just _as important as learning how to use a weapon." The trainer chided.

_What do you know? _Sienna thought, _You're not even a victor. _She looked away, searching the gym for her father. No doubt, he would be selecting male candidates for this year's Games.

She wished the day would end already. When the academy closed, and everyone went home for the day…_that _was when things got interesting. She and her father would practice throwing spears at dummies. Killing dummies may not have been as rewarding as killing a live person, but it was a lot better than sitting here learning how to wrap wounds.

Sienna eyed the trainer, imagining hurling a spear into her gut. She couldn't wait to enter the arena one day. She wanted to kill. She wanted to watch her victims bleed out. Would they die quickly? Or would they twitch and writhe in pain? It all depended on where she aimed her spear…

Excitement pulsed through her at the very thought of it. But she wasn't hopeful that she would make it into the Games this year; no, she had a few more years to go before the older victors would even consider her.

_No matter._ _I can wait._

**Meanwhile in District 4, the training room was totally empty.**

**Dunno how many more updates there will be since Finals are coming up. And I'm pretty much out of ideas. And hints. Yeah, I suck. Well here's your last one, which isn't a very good one, buuut…I like symbolism. This is totally the most symbolic arena yet! Yay!**


	13. Communing With Commoners

**Happy Thanksgiving!**

**So as you all know, I haven't formally been accepting profiles and I won't be until December 21****st****. But I've allowed everyone to send me their characters so that I can give them feedback and let them know where their profile stands. **

**Well, I've decided to accept the amazing profiles given to me by my most diligent reviewers. These people have stuck with me for months, even hanging around to leave long reviews on the outtakes. They deserve some sort of reward for taking the time to make my day by leaving these messages. So I'm accepting their characters. I apologize if you were targeting one of these spots, but the profiles have met the standards and the people that made them are just awesome. They deserve to have the spots. :)**

**So as of now, six spots are filled: D1 male, D3 male, D3 female, D8 female, D10 male, and D11 male. **

**Moving on, this is a chapter I just wrote for fun, plus I needed something to tack the announcement on to. XD One of my tributes I've created makes an appearance in this. I've submitted her to other SYOTs various times, alas, she's never been written. Usually she's from District 11…maybe that's the reason why, because nobody ever makes it that far when writing the Reapings. Well, now she's relocated to District 1 for the purpose of this chapter.**

_C'mon Towhee…it's now or never…_

Channa's victory speech had just drawn to a close. In the uproarious crowd, Towhee made her way to the family of three she was targeting. Their blonde heads melded with other families around them, but she refused to take her eyes off them. As she drew near, the scowling father declared that he was going to offer his congratulations to the new victor. "Stay here." He firmly told his wife and son. Then he walked briskly away towards the line that was already forming.

Towhee took a deep breath and approached them with confidence, despite her pounding heart. "Hi Saffron!" She said cheerfully.

Saffron turned and looked at her coolly. For a moment, she lost herself in his piercing blue gaze. _Gosh, he's hot. Why is everyone so infatuated with his brother? Sage is such a flirt, there's no way he could ever compare to Saffron! _

Suddenly, his aloof voice brought her back to her senses. "What do _you _want?"

Towhee's heart felt like a separate entity inside of her, trying to escape from her chest into her throat. She swallowed it back and forced a smile. "Hey, I don't know if you recognize me from school, but I'm in a few of your classes and we've talked a bit. My name's—"

"Towhee Burdon." Saffron said, looking bored, "Yes, of course I know you. We're in the student council together, are we not?"

"Y-yeah, that's me!" She laughed nervously, pleased that Saffron had taken note of her, "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at the festival! It looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. We could go on the Ferris wheel or…" She trailed off.

Saffron's gaze hardened to an unfriendly glare. He didn't respond.

_Oh no…don't cry, don't cry… _Towhee thought, her smile wavering. _And after I finally had built up the courage to ask…!_

"Saffron, don't be so rude. She's a lady." His mother chided gently. "Why don't you spend some time with her? I'm sure you'll have more fun than just going straight home with your father and I."

"But Father said to wait here for him!" Saffron protested.

"I promise you won't get in trouble." His mother replied, giving him a light push towards Towhee. "Come now, where's your chivalry at?"

Saffron sighed. "Very well. I suppose it might have some value. Since I have no other pressing matters to which I must attend, I shall accompany you."

"That's the spirit!" Towhee exclaimed, positively beaming. Saffron swept past her and she followed, chattering, "So what should we do first? There are rides, games…oh, or maybe you'd like something to eat?"

Saffron cast her a withering glance. "This is a waste of time. Nothing but a foolish charade of commoners, by commoners, and for commoners."

"But it's _fun_!" Towhee burst out before she could stop herself.

Saffron raised his eyebrows, looking incredulous. "Perhaps from your perspective. However, I never partake in such foolishness."

Feeling brave, Towhee grabbed his arm and began to lead him towards the mirror maze. "Come on! I'm going to show you how to have fun. It's time you stopped being so serious all the time!"

Saffron allowed himself to be dragged towards the tent. As they approached, he noticed someone had tacked on the word 'haunted' to the sign. Fake blood was dripping off of decorative handprints. "A _haunted _mirror maze?" He said, hesitating to join the line, "Is there such a thing?"

Towhee gave a small wriggle of excitement. "I bet it's really scary!"

"My nurse told me that anything haunted is bound to be full of flesh-eating zombies." Saffron said in a grave voice.

Towhee shot him a look, wondering if he was serious or not. "Well, it might have zombies, but they're only actors." She told him.

Saffron remained silent. As they waited in line, Towhee tried to ward off the awkward silence by talking about student council. After a few minutes of this, Saffron cut her off, saying, "I have no interest in the affairs of the council. I merely joined because it was one of the few clubs my father approved of…but the power I expected of the position was nonexistent."

"It's not all…!" Towhee started to object, but Saffron gave a dry laugh and interrupted once more.

"My motion to raise funds for the music program never came to pass. And everyone laughed at my charity organization."

Towhee stifled a snicker. "Wait, were you serious about the charity?"

His look said it all.

"Saffron, why would anyone donate to a charity supporting _you _when you're one of the richest kids in the school?" Towhee asked, trying not to laugh, "Jeez, it's amazing you're still the president…"

Saffron looked rather offended, but before he could retaliate, they reached the front of the line. The teenager in charge made them wait a minute after the group in front of them entered. Then he gave them a thumbs-up to go ahead.

"Nervous?" Towhee whispered, as they stepped through the curtain and into the darkness. A corridor lined with mirrors greeted them. Neon lights added a soft glow to the maze, allowing them to see their distorted reflections. Fake blood spattered the makeshift walls.

"Don't be ridiculous. This mediocrity couldn't scare a mere child." Saffron hissed. In the half-light, he offered his arm to Towhee. Smiling, she took it, and they set off together.

As they rounded a corner, Towhee gave a sharp gasp, causing Saffron to jump and look around wildly. "Sorry!" She giggled, wide-eyed, "This is just really scary!"

"Please." Saffron rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Burdon, you wouldn't last a second in the—"

"BWAAARGH!" With a roar, a dark figure came leaping out of nowhere. In the same instant, Saffron sent his fist smashing into their attacker's face. With a choked cry, the older boy crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Towhee just gaped at the scene before her. The boy had scars painted on his face and a spiky black mohawk bristled atop his head. A long sword glistening with blood lay discarded at his side. "Saffron…you killed Abbadon!"

"I did not," Saffron said, rubbing his fist, "I merely assaulted an actor portraying him. And it wasn't my fault…he had no business, jumping out of the dark like that!"

"It's his _job_." Towhee grumbled. The unconscious actor let out a soft moan. "Come on, let's get out of here before we get in trouble." She muttered, quickly stepping over the body. Saffron followed, looking nonchalant as he brushed his hair out of his face.

Fearful that Saffron would harm the other actors, Towhee led the rest of the way through the maze. Every so often, actors adorned in makeup would pop out and make her scream. Saffron usually gave a start, as if he were going to attack, but forced himself to stay calm. After stumbling upon a few more dead ends, they made it out alive.

"So…that was your definition of 'fun.'" Saffron said in a flat voice as they exited.

Towhee whipped around, ready to go on the defensive. Then she spotted the victorious smirk on Saffron's face. _Well…it's better than a scowl, _She regarded.

Together, they headed to the long lines of stands that contained all sorts of games. Large stuffed animals stood in clusters as prizes. At one stand, beautiful beta fish flashed theirs fins in bowls you tried to throw tiny balls into. No matter how hard she tried, Towhee couldn't seem to sink one.

"May I assist you?" Saffron said, holding out his hand.

Towhee laughed and shook her head. "That's all right. My parents wouldn't be very happy with me if I came home with a fish anyways."

Saffron let his hand drop. "Then why bother playing?"

Towhee tipped her head and copied the look he always gave her. "Can't figure it out yourself, huh?"

Next they tried a game where you tried to knock the prizes off using a plastic rifle with soft balls for ammo. Towhee failed at that one too.

"Pathetic." Saffron said, smirking, "Let me try…"

He went to take the rifle from her, but she held on tightly, teasing him, "I thought you didn't like fun!"

Saffron easily wrestled the plastic rifle from her and took aim. In one shot, he knocked a small teddy bear off its platform. "Ha!" He exclaimed, smiling proudly at his accomplishment, "You see? There is nothing that a Le Bel cannot achieve!"

"Good job, kid." The bored-looking attendant said, handing him the bear, "Here's your prize."

Saffron held it in his hand, staring at it blankly. "…What am I supposed to do with _this_?" Without waiting for a response, he shoved it into Towhee's hands, "Here. You take it."

"Oh, th-thanks!" Towhee said, blushing furiously. She snuck a glance at Saffron and could have sworn he was turning a bit red too.

"Let's get something to eat." Saffron suggested, reaching up to brush at his long bangs.

They hopped in a food line. Towhee's mouth watered at the sight of all of the food before them. Chicken on a stick, popcorn, bananas dipped in fudge, pretzels, ice cream, snow cones…

But when Saffron saw the spread of food, his expression turned to one of horror. "Is this the food of peasants?" He asked in a hushed voice.

Towhee looked at him, confused. "Umm, what?"

"It looks positively unsanitary! People can't possibly be eating this." Saffron said loudly, gesturing to the mass assortment of food. One of the sellers glared at him, but she was too busy serving a customer to say something.

"Oh, come on, it's good!" Towhee said, "Here…one cotton candy and one candied apple!" She ordered, handing over some change. She took the food and handed the candied apple to Saffron. He just stared at it blankly. "Try it, you'll like it!" Towhee encouraged, popping a bite of cotton candy into her mouth.

"I'm not going to eat it." Saffron stated, "Though the color is most interesting…perhaps I shall take it home and mount it in a case."

Once again, Towhee had to wonder if he was being serious.

After this, they went back to playing games and going on rides, Saffron clutching his apple tightly the entire time. The sun steadily dipped beneath the horizon. The festival would be over soon, and there was still one thing they hadn't done…

"Come on, let's ride the Ferris wheel!" Towhee said excitedly, grasping Saffron's hand in her own. He followed obediently. They joined the line, Towhee humming happily under her breath. She looked behind her to see Saffron peering at her curiously. "What?"

"I was contemplating your invitation today." Saffron said simply, "Why not have fun with your friends?"

Towhee reached up with a hand and began twisting one of her pigtails awkwardly. "Umm…I don't really have any." She admitted, feeling embarrassed.

"Why's that?"

"I don't know…other girls hate me and I hate them. And who needs that kind of drama?" She forced a laugh. "But I'm fine with being by myself."

"They are not good enough to share your company, just as no one is good enough to share mine!" Saffron declared heatedly.

"Thanks…I guess…was that a complement?" Towhee said, dumbfounded by his statement.

"Next!" The ride attendant called, motioning for them to get into a cart.

They climbed in together, Towhee squealing inwardly at the close proximity they shared. The Ferris wheel began to turn slowly, pausing every so often to let someone else on. Towhee fiddled with her teddy bear, feeling rather pathetic for mentioning that she had no friends to speak of. With each second that past, she felt more and more humiliated. She was contemplating leaping from the cart when the wheel jerked to a sudden halt.

"What is this trickery?!" Saffron yelped, clinging tightly to the bar that clamped them to the seat.

"I think we broke down." Towhee murmured, peering down at the ground. Workmen appeared to be hurrying over to check out the situation. "Ugh, and we're stuck at the very top…this stinks."

"Indeed." Saffron sighed wearily, "And I have tired of holding this." He suddenly let the candied apple fall from his hand. It plummeted down the length of the Ferris wheel. Someone let out a yell as it struck them on the head.

"Saffron!" Towhee cried out, grabbing his arm, "Why'd you do that? You hit someone!"

"Have I?" He tried to peer over the edge, but Towhee yanked him back.

"No, they'll see you!" She hissed. Then, for some reason, she started giggling uncontrollably. "You're...nothing but...trouble!" She gasped between fits of laughter. Amazingly, Saffron's face lit up with a shy smile. He waited for her to calm down before speaking.

"My thanks to you for today, Burdon. It was…fun." He admitted, avoiding her gaze.

Towhee could feel her face turning red again. "Oh, you're welcome! I-I'm glad I got to share it with you…"

"As am I. We must do this again, sometime."

Suddenly, the sky was filled with an explosion of color. Fireworks were being set off all around them, their sounds echoing into the night. People far below them were cheering exuberantly. Towhee and Saffron watched from the best possible seats, their eyes wide with wonder. Towhee shot a tentative glance at Saffron's hand, resting on his knee. She had the urge to hold it…she began to reach for it, but stopped herself. She was too afraid that Saffron would snap at her and call her a peasant. So she returned her attention to the fireworks.

There was a flash of white and something went streaking across the sky. "A shooting star!" Towhee cried out over the noise, pointing at it.

Saffron's eyes flicked to where she was looking. He smirked. "That's a pigeon. Good try, though."

"Oh…"

With a loud squeal, the Ferris wheel kicked back on. The two of them were lowered to the ground and got off as the firework finally died down. Waiting for them was none other than Saffron's father, red-faced with anger.

Saffron froze at the sight of him, suddenly looking like a child that had been caught misbehaving. "Father…" He greeted with a polite nod.

"I've been looking for you all night." Saffron's father said in a cold voice.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Le Bel! It's my fault. I asked him to come with me!" Towhee cried out, fearing for Saffron.

The man ignored her, roughly grabbing Saffron's arm and dragging him forward. Saffron began to protest, but his father cut him off sharply, saying that the two of them needed to talk. With that, they made their departure.

"See you at school…" Towhee called lamely after them. She was given no response. She stood there pathetically, feeling terrible that she had gotten Saffron in trouble. But why would his father be so upset with him? Wasn't he allowed to enjoy the festival, like everyone else?

Miserable, she trod home. The rest of the weekend, she tried to think up some sort of apology. The teddy bear served as an awful reminder of her screw-up, doubling her guilt. When school rolled around, and the student council had finished their meeting, she hung back to talk to Saffron. He was busy cleaning up, looking rather stressed out.

"Hey Saffron…" Towhee said quietly.

"Burdon." He said simply, without looking up from his work.

"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble with your dad." She said, her throat tightening with shame.

"It was nothing. Do not worry about such a trivial matter." Saffron sighed. "So goes the life of an aristocrat…and I welcome it."

Towhee didn't know anything about being an aristocrat, so she didn't comment on the matter. Aside from that, she had been building up the courage to do something else besides apologize today. "Umm, I was wondering, since we had such a good time the other day…I was wondering if you'd like to hang out again, sometime?"

"Thank you, but no." Saffron said immediately. "I must focus on training for the Hunger Games. I have no time for such frivolous activities."

Her heart sank. _His father must have given him a talking to. _"Okay, that's fine." Towhee said, biting her lip. She felt like she was going to cry. "I'll just…I'll go then."

But just as she turned to leave, Saffron spoke up. "Perhaps if I win the Games."

Towhee looked back. "What was that?"

"Nothing. I said nothing." Saffron growled, "Be on your way."

But Towhee had heard him. A smile stretched across her face, her sadness evaporating instantly. "Okay…see you tomorrow, Saffron!" With that, she zipped out of the room.

Saffron watched her go, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Mongrel."

**Since we never saw Towhee from there on out and she didn't show up at the goodbyes, we'll just assume that their relationship never advanced any further because Saffron refused to make time for her. :(**

**So many Hatoful references…here's a picture of Towhee since I didn't bother describing her! twilitprincess . deviantart art/Hatoful-Boyfriend-Page-3-313609253 Ain't she adorable? And she's surrounded by pigeons because HECKZ YEAHHHHZ111PIGEONS**

**This is random, but I was kind of considering doing one of those ask blogs on tumblr. My sister and I were throwing around ideas…I think it'd be fun to do Ask Hip and Saffron, but I've never ran a blog before and I don't know if it'd be very popular, especially since it needs people asking questions to run. Maybe when summer rolls around.  
**


	14. Bring Your Child to Work Day

**Well, the 44****th**** Hunger Games will be up later this month! Thanks for submitting your characters everyone; the window to submit is officially closed!**

**Just kidding, it's technically not even open yet. I'm just practicing for when I get to say that around New Year's. Did I fool you? :D**

**Lessee, first of all, addressing "Guest's" question (I would PM you if I could, but I'll just have to put it here), I would draw the responses. And I would color it, even though I've never tried coloring in my life. Because that makes it fun to look at! Though I'm not very artistically inclined. I attempted to draw my boys here… twilitprincess . deviantart #/d5lyofb But it's just kind of…eh. Humans aren't really my specialty, especially realistic-looking humans. I'm better at cartoonish animals. My sister's starting up one for the Happy Mask Salesman (aka Hapi's true form) next summer so maybe we'll learn the works of it together. Enough about that though, we'll just wait and see what happens.**

**Anyways, I figured you all already got a taste of "Dean," so why not a Wiley chapter? It takes place when he was much younger, about 6 or 7. I'm sure Portal fans will appreciate all of the references. This was really fun to write and I got a bit carried away, but I think it's a good chapter and it's good background to know on the character. I hope you grow to like him as much as I do.  
**

As the looming sign for Corr Laboratories came into view, Wiley couldn't help but gave a tiny wiggle of excitement. Today was going to be the best day ever! He had been looking forward to it for months. It was "Bring Your Child to Work Day" and he got to miss school for it. More importantly, he would get to spend the whole day with his dad, who was constantly working. Sometimes he would spend so much time at the lab, his family wouldn't see him for a number of days.

"Daddy, what are we going to do first?" Wiley squeaked, taking two steps for every one of his father's, "Are we going to do experiments? Oh! Can I invent something for the Capitol too?"

His father slowed his pace, allowing Wiley to catch up. He beamed down at his son, proud of his enthusiasm. "First I'm going to give you a little tour of the facility."

Wiley gave a cry of pleasure as they entered through the large double doors of the enormous building. "Wow! It's huge!" He exclaimed, goggling at the main room, which had the highest ceiling he had ever witnessed. The floor and walls were a pristine white. Gigantic letters hanging from above spelled out the name of the facility. Scientists in lab coats were running to and fro holding clipboards. It was a very lively place.

Mr. Corr put his hands on his hips and declared, "We'll have to bring your brothers next year. I bet they would like it here."

"No! Rick would break something and Craig would drool on everything, and then nothing would work anymore!" Wiley protested. He didn't like the idea of his little brothers getting in on his quality time with dad.

Mr. Corr chuckled. "Come on, sport, let's get right to it!" He began to stride away and Wiley hurried after him, slipping his hand into his father's and clutching it tightly.

"Where are all the other kids?" Wiley wondered, gawking at everything in sight.

"Off doing little science experiments. Their parents have to work." Mr. Corr explained, leading Wiley through a sliding door, "You get special privileges since you're the boss's kid."

Wiley grinned, feeling special.

After walking a bit, they came upon a large test room that was separated from them by a layer of thick glass. Wiley stood on his tiptoes, peering in at the scientists. "What are they doing?" He asked, adjusting his glasses and squinting. The workers were huddled around an operating table, but he couldn't get a good look at what they were doing.

"They're performing surgery on a test subject!" His father said enthusiastically, "By implanting chips into the brain, we can construct a virtual reality for any Capitol citizen that becomes bored with their daily life. With their imagination, they would be able to think up anything they want...kind of like a dream. It'd be a lot better than any of those virtual game gizmos made by our competitor! Anyways, some of the Capitolites have been wondering what it would be like to compete in the Hunger Games, so we're trying to construct it for them…of course, it would be without the threat of death."

"That sounds fun!" Wiley proclaimed happily.

"Not _that _fun. Last test subject couldn't figure out how to break out of their alternate reality. Poor sap." He smiled and shook his head at the unknown fate of the subject. "Anyways, it's still in the works."

"Oh." Wiley said, feeling disappointed.

They moved on to a room that was full of computers. Researchers were typing away on keyboards, completely absorbed in their work. They didn't spare their boss a glance as he and his son meandered on by.

"Here's another cool experiment we're working on!" Mr. Corr boomed, putting a hand on Wiley's shoulder and pointing with the other, "Artificial intelligence."

Wiley just stared at the researchers blankly; trying to figure out what language his father had started speaking.

"The point is, if we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's intelligence and personality on one? So, I have the engineers figuring that one out now. There have been a lot of advances made in lengthening the life span, but no one has truly found the way to become immortal. Can you imagine how much a rich Capitolite would pay for immortality?!"

Wiley just nodded his head during his father's speech, trying to look as if he understood. He didn't see why anyone would want to be turned into a computer. They just sat there while people pushed their buttons, and that didn't sound very pleasant. Then again, his father most likely knew what he was talking about, so he didn't argue with him.

After that, they ventured to all sorts of interesting labs. In one area, they were cutting out tumors, but Mr. Corr wouldn't let Wiley see them doing so. There was also a cool room where scientists were looking how to bring memories back in clear, viewable form. Another place had something to do with teleportation, but Mr. Corr acknowledged that they were making very little advancement on that front. Then he got angry and fired someone for back talking to him.

"Box your stuff, out the front door, parking lot, car, goodbye!" He said in a stern voice, sending the worker packing.

Wiley just watched with a stupid grin on his face. _My dad's the coolest!_

They moved on with their tour.

"What are _they _doing?" Wiley asked, peering through another wall of glass to see the experiments that were occurring on the other side.

"Injecting test subjects with mantis DNA!" Mr. Corr exclaimed.

Wiley blinked at his father. "Why?"

"Science isn't about 'why,' son. It's about 'why not!'" Mr. Corr declared proudly, as if he had spoken that line many times before.

An awkward pause followed his statement.

"Mum says you're going to run the company into the ground with the way you spend money." Wiley said somberly, coming away from the window.

"What else did your mother say about me?" Mr. Corr said, frowning suspiciously.

"Is it lunch time yet?" Wiley asked, avoiding the question. He held up his paper bag proudly, mouth watering at the thought of the snacks inside.

Mr. Corr let out a hearty laugh. "Not yet! We're only an hour in and we barely covered anything…at least let me show you my office." He led his son through the winding corridors to where his spacious office lay. One wall was a glass panel that overlooked the large research center, but it had curtains that could be drawn for privacy. There was also a large desk, a comfy chair, and a control panel on the wall, lined with buttons. Next to the panel was a huge picture of Mr. Corr himself, beaming at the camera.

Wiley's jaw dropped and he marveled at the impressive office. "Wow! This is all yours?"

"You better believe it, kid. And it'll be _yours_, one day." Mr. Corr said proudly, watching fondly as his son ran around the room. He hopped up on the chair and discovered it spun. Laughing, he spent the next few minutes spinning in circles and making himself dizzy.

While he did so, Mr. Corr received a call from one of the research centers. "Okay, I'll be right down." He said gravely, scratching at his sideburns, "Just let me drop my kid off with the others." He slapped the phone down and turned to look at Wiley.

Wiley was currently rambling about the panel of buttons on the wall. "What does _this _one do? Ooh, I like this one. Can I push it? I'm going to push it and see what happens!"

"No, Wiley!" Mr. Corr burst out, grabbing his son's hand and wrenching it away before he could touch the button. Wiley gave a small yelp of surprise as his dad spun him around to face him. "You must never, ever press that button."

Wiley's blue eyes widened with fright. "Why? What does it do?" He asked, heart pounding nervously.

Mr. Corr relaxed slightly, loosening his grip on the young boy's wrist. A smirk crossed his face and he gazed at the button with a twinkle in his eye. "I had it installed in case of emergency. In case any of my competitors break in and try to steal my work…or if the Peacekeepers come to try and shut me down. After all, some of this research could be perceived as a threat."

"But what does it _do_?" Wiley asked, feeling utterly confused.

"It releases deadly neurotoxin all over the facility. Do you remember that tribute in last year's Hunger Games? The one that ate the poisoned meat?"

Wiley nodded, his features saddening.

"Well, everyone in Corr Laboratories would drop dead even faster. So don't _ever _push this button. You understand me?"

"Okay," Wiley said, sniffling slightly.

"Come on, son, don't go soft on me! Now I've got something to attend to, so I'm going to drop you off where all the other kids are." He grabbed Wiley's hand and led him from the room. Wiley kept a tight grip on his lunch bag, allowing his father to lead him to where the rest of the children were.

They arrived in a cramped room filled with kids, most of them his own age. They were sitting at rows of desks, working on simple little inventions such a potato batteries and baking soda volcanoes. They were attended by smiling receptionists, who guided them through the procedures.

Wiley caught sight of a familiar face and instinctively moved to hide behind his father. Mr. Corr lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Something wrong?"

"Mack's over there!" Wiley whimpered, hiding his face, "He's really mean to me, and for no good reason…!"

"Man up, Wiley!" Mr. Corr said, slapping his son on the back, "If he bothers you, just let him know that he's going to be working for you in another 30 years."

A small smile creased Wiley's features as he once again thought of taking over Corr Laboratories. "Really? …But what if he hits me?"

"Violence isn't the answer, son. Science is!" Mr. Corr declared, pointing at his brain, "A Corr fights with his intellect!"

"Intellect." Wiley repeated, though he had no idea what the word meant.

"Exactly. Now go have a ball!"

Wiley took a few steps forward, his nerves returning as he entered the room. "…But Daddy-!" He looked behind him; only discover that his father had already left. Sighing, he ventured further into the room, keeping as far away from Mack as possible. As he went, he cast a critical eye towards the other children's science experiments.

_Barely science, really. _He thought, looking at a little girl who was struggling to put her battery together. He stood a little taller as he thought of how he would be running the show one day, right alongside his father.

But checking up on the other kids quickly became a bore. Wiley found an empty chair with an untouched potato and a few wires on the desk in front of it. Deciding that he might as well give it a go, he sat down. Just as he was picking up the pieces, Mack came strolling up behind him.

"Hey Four-Eyes!" The boy said in a taunting voice, "Saw you holding hands with your daddy!"

Wiley stiffened up instantly, fear crawling up his spine. He hated being bullied by Mack. Mack always made sure to remind him of all of his flaws—he talked funny, he wore glasses, he couldn't sing his ABC's…the list went on and on. Usually, Wiley endured it. Or, he would try and convince Mack to leave him alone with words of persuasion, but neither of those seemed to work. Both ended with a black eye or a stolen cookie.

Just then, Mack snatched Wiley's lunch bag off the desk, "Whatcha got in here?" He said mockingly, reaching in and fishing out Wiley's cookies with his pudgy fingers. "Sweet! Think I'll be taking these…" He waved the bag in front of Wiley's face, who was still trying to avoid eye contact.

But then he remembered his father's advice. He gritted his teeth with determination and rose to his feet quite suddenly. Mack pulled back, having been caught off guard by the unexpected retaliation. Wiley got right in his face and declared, "You know what, you're going to be working for me in another 30 years!" The words tumbled out so fast he could barely control them.

Mack just squinted at him through beady eyes, trying to comprehend the statement. "…What's _that _supposed to mean?" He snorted, beginning to open the bag of cookies.

"You're going to work for me, like how your parents work for my daddy!" He paused, and then added as an afterthought, "Fatty!"

The next thing he knew, he was on the ground with a potato shoved in his mouth while Mack pummeled him with his fists. There was a flurry of high-pitched squeals and a horde of middle-aged women came and pulled Mack off of him. Wiley spat out the potato, but the taste of dirt still clung to his tongue.

"He called me fat!" Mack bellowed, trying to break free from his restraints.

A receptionist helped Wiley to his feet and started to lead him off. He had tears in his eyes. "I didn't mean to, it's just—it's just, he takes my cookies out of my lunch every day even though I ask him not to, and I ask nicely, but, but he won't even share and my mum made them just for me…!"

The receptionist said nothing, leading him out of the room and taking him back the way he had come earlier.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" He choked out, beginning to cry.

"No, honey, of course not. I just think it would be better if you waited in your father's office, okay?" She said kindly, taking him inside.

"Okay," Wiley sniffled.

The woman offered him a small smile, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone. Wiley wiped away at his tears. Then he realized that he had left his lunch back in the science experiment room. He tried the door, only to find that it had been locked from the outside.

A fresh wave of tears overcame him. _Mack's probably eating all of my snacks… _He thought forlornly.

He headed away from the door and climbed into his father's office chair. He tried to entertain himself by spinning in circles, but all of the fun had been drained from the experience. His stomach was rumbling, but he had no food to give it. He closed his eyes and kept spinning, losing himself in the motion.

Then he heard a soft 'click' as the chair collided with the wall. Wiley's eyes flew open in alarm to see that the neurotoxin release button had been pushed down. The panel had been left open from earlier, leaving it completely exposed! He gave a sharp cry and leaped from the chair, pushing it away from the button.

But it was too late. The damage had already been done. Wiley began sobbing hysterically, running around the room and trying to open the door. But he remained trapped inside. Hopelessly trapped, while everyone outside was dying even faster than the tribute that had eaten the poisoned meat…

Wiley shoved his fingers in his mouth to keep from screaming. The curtains were closed, and he was terrified to open them for fear of seeing the scientists lying dead outside. _And his dad was out there too! _Just the thought of it made his legs go numb and give out from under him. He curled into a small ball on the carpet, weeping. Each pain-staking second that ticked by felt more like a year.

Suddenly, a familiar voice boomed, "My God! Wiley, what happened?!"

Wiley peered up through tear-filled eyes at his father. He was alive!

Mr. Corr scooped Wiley off the floor and sat him in his lap on the chair. "Tell me what happened!" He demanded.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…!" Wiley sobbed, "I didn't mean to!"

"What did you do?!" Mr. Corr said sharply, sounding alarmed.

Wiley couldn't force out any more words. He was crying so hard he began to hyperventilate. Mr. Corr held him close, patting him on the back with one hand. With the other, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah, Carol? Can you bring a cup of hot cocoa to my office? …I don't care if you're busy. This is important." He slammed the phone down and returned his attention to his son, who was trying to catch his breath.

A minute later, Carol bustled in with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "What's wrong?" She asked worriedly, looking concerned for Wiley.

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Corr said gruffly, "Thank you for the cocoa."

Carol nodded and exited from the room as quickly as she had come. Mr. Corr released Wiley and sat him on his knee, looking at him seriously. "Here…drink this and tell me what's wrong." He said, handing over the mug.

Wiley took slow sips, swirling the sweet substance around in his mouth and letting it trickle down his throat. The warm liquid comforted him, though tears continued to bud at the corner of his eyes. His story spilled out in distorted chunks. "I was going to make a potato battery, but Mack shoved it down my throat, and I didn't even do anything, though I called him a fatty, b-but he deserved it, y'know, for stealing my cookies, and—and I came back here and I hit the button you said not to push, but it wasn't on purpose, I swear! I didn't mean to kill everyone. Honest!"

Mr. Corr listened with raised eyebrows. When Wiley had finished his tale of woe, the man threw back his head and laughed. Wiley's face screwed up with confusion. "Oh, son…" His father chuckled, "You didn't kill anyone. The button only works if you insert the key into it first."

"…You're telling the truth?"

"See for yourself."

He took Wiley off his lap, then threw open the curtain to reveal the scientists outside, still busily working away on their projects. Wiley let out a big sigh of relief and wiped away the last of his tears.

"What do you say we get out of here, sport? I'd say that's enough excitement for one day." Mr. Corr suggested, beaming at his son.

Wiley hesitated. "You're taking me home?" He couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Nah, the day's not over yet! What say we go out for some ice cream?"

Wiley brightened instantly. "Okay!"

At the prospect of ice cream, Wiley forgot all about his stolen snacks. He skipped alongside his father as they exited the facility, hardly able to contain his joy.

"But Daddy…" Wiley said suddenly, as they set off in the direction of the ice cream parlor, "Don't you still have to work?"

Mr. Corr slyly put a finger to his lips. "Shhhh…"

**Well, that's all the updates on the Hunger Games Outtakes I've got for now. See you all for the 44****th**** Games!**


	15. How to Get the Girl 101

**I should probably say now that Outtakes is drawing to an end. When the 44****th**** is over, I want to move on to new things. The story will end with the three victors' deaths unless some fantastic idea hits me months or years later and I can't resist from writing and putting it up. But before that…! It's your turn to shine! Since I'm not taking requests, you get to write that outtake you always wanted to see. That's right! v_v  
**

**My sister was talking about doing a contest regarding her story and minor characters from LoZ so I thought why not have a little fun and do one for mine. :) You guys are all creative and talented (…I think…I don't really know many of you…well, let's just say you are!) so I'd like to see some of your work! The contest is this:**

**Write a oneshot about any of the characters that have been featured in my three Hunger Games stories (42****nd****, 43****rd****, 44****th****). It can be any length and AUs are acceptable. Slash/Genderbending/M-rated pornos, etc. are against the rules because I don't want to read that crap. I'll be grading based on grammar/spelling, characterization (in other words, try to keep them in character), creativity, and just overall…entertaining goodness. Like what you would expect to see in an Outtake. Message me if you have any questions about a particular character—I have everything you need to know in their profiles.**

**PM me your story when it's done. You only get one submission so make it count. The winner's one-shot will be published in the Outtakes! The runners-up will get brief descriptions so if they pique your interest, just message that author asking to see it. Or they could publish them, if they so desire. Honorable mentions will be on my profile. To everyone that submits, I'll pop on by one of your stories (if you've published any) and get your review count up a bit. So everyone's a winner! Yay! :) Ties are possible if I can't decide. The contest ends when the 44****th**** ends. I bet like only one person is going to wind up submitting, aren't they. Enough about that…**

**I wrote this a while back, but I waited to put it up because it was a teense spoilery. Sorry if your character doesn't appear, I picked the more interesting characters when it comes to relationships or just ones I enjoy writing. Aside from that, isn't it always nice to see everyone alive? :D I hope it makes you feel better, regarding everything that's happened in the 44****th**** and whatnot.  
**

"Hey, and welcome to How to Get the Girl 101. I'm your teacher Hip Hoprock. Please refrain from making any puns on my last name, as I'm the only one allowed to do that. Now, if you're all here, I'm assuming…yeah, what is it, rookie?"

"Isaac." Isaac said, lowering his hand and looking extremely awkward. His cheeks burned as he stammered out, "Uhh…what if you're not interested in getting the girl…what if you don't really, ah…go that way? Completely?"

Hip just stared at his student blankly. "Oh. Then you're in the wrong class. That one is right down the hall."

Isaac got up from his seat and moved towards the door. As soon as he left, Hip slammed it behind him and locked it. Then he turned to his class, smiling mischievously. "I lied. There's not another class down the hall." He strolled back to the front desk, chuckling.

"Why'd you do that?" Jarek blurted out.

"I don't like homos. I feel like they're always checking me out. The only time you should ever be gay or rather _pretend _to be gay is when you're caught in the middle of three girls arguing over you and you need to get out. Fast." Hip stated bluntly.

Wide-eyed, Jarek nodded and copied that down into his notes.

"Anyways, I'd better take role." Hip squinted at a list, crossing off Isaac's name. "…Wiley Corr?"

"Right here, mate." Wiley said in his Capitol accent, raising a hand.

"Jarek Damon."

"That's meee!" Jarek said, practically leaping from his seat.

"Almond…pff, what kinda name is—? Err, Almond Frezno Jr." Hip said, stifling a snort.

"Yo." Al said, lounging in a seat next to Wiley, "And you can call me Al."

"Will do. Saffron _Le Smell_?"

"Le Bel!" Saffron snapped, sitting at the front of the classroom, "You know very well that it is Le Bel, you mongrel."

Hip narrowed his eyes. "Why are you even here, pretty boy?" He sneered, "I didn't think you were capable of emotion."

A dash of color crept into Saffron's cheeks. "I have my reasons." He mumbled under his breath, averting his gaze.

Hip shrugged. "Moving on…Cole Miller. Ah, there you are."

Cole gave a friendly wave, his blue eyes shining with excitement at the prospect of learning how to pick up chicks.

"Jack Newman."

"Here!" Jack called out stiffly, "And precisely on time, as well!"

"Nobody cares." Hip yawned, twirling a pencil in his hands.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Isaac was looking in through the little window, his face full of confusion. Hip crossed over to him and pulled a curtain down over his face. There was another knock, this time more urgent, as he went back to his desk.

"He'll go away eventually. Anyways…Hapi M. Saltzman?"

"Here," Hapi said, grinning from a seat in the back, where he could observe everyone.

"And last, but not least: Seth Strider."

"Present."

"Great, that's everyone!" Hip said, slapping his notebook down onto the desk. He folded his arms, observing each of his pupils. "Now before we get into the nitty gritty details of how to woo your woman, I want you all to know that every single one of you has potential. Some will have to work harder than others…but in the end, the result will be worth it. Now let's get to it! We've got a lot to cover today. First, we'll be working on our pick-up lines. Second, we'll divide into teams and discuss the importance of a wingman. Third, we'll improvise some skits. We've also got a guest speaker coming in today, so be ready for that!"

"Slow down, slow down!" Jarek whimpered, his hand cramping up as he struggled to write down every word of Hip's.

"You really don't need to write down everything I'm saying," Hip frowned.

The knocking at the door suddenly started back up—and it sounded angry, if that was possible.

"When will this guy give up?" Hip groaned, going to answer it. Before he could reach it, there was a loud crash and the door went flying off its hinges.

"Hip!" A feminine voice shouted in an accusing tone.

"Channa!" Hip gasped, looking pleasantly surprised. "What brings you here?"

Channa motioned to Isaac, who was standing beside her. "This poor boy says you kicked him out of your class. Why would you do that? If I recall correctly, didn't you say every boy had potential?" She narrowed her eyes, daring him to challenge her.

Hip let out a nervous laugh. "There's a good reason for that. He doesn't…oh, how do I put this? My class is on how to get _girls_ and I don't need him scaring off some of the students or making it awkward."

Channa rolled her eyes. "You are so close-minded!"

"Just one of my many personality traits that make me amazing." Hip winked.

"Right. Anyways, all of this idiocy has given me an idea. I think I'll open up my own class: How to Get the Guy 101. And it'll be loads better than _your _class." She turned to Isaac, smiling sweetly. "Are you coming, Isaac?"

"Thanks." Isaac said, "Sorry for all the trouble…"

"You're not forgiven." Hip sneered.

"I was talking to Channa." Isaac said, looking annoyed.

Hip ignored him. "Just so you know, Channa, your class will be _nothing _compared to mine. In fact, why don't you bring them all over at the end of the day so we can show them how much we've learned? If my pupils put yours to shame, you're treating me to dinner!"

Channa smiled smugly. "Challenge accepted. C'mon, Isaac. We have an army to build."

She and Isaac turned and walked off down the hall. Hip went to close the door, but realized it was still lying on the ground. He poked his head out the doorframe and called after them, "And you're paying for this door!" Then he walked back to the front of the room, questioning what he had got himself into.

"Are we commencing sometime today?" Seth asked, looking impatiently at the clock.

"Yeah, yeah…what were we doing?" Hip said, looking distracted.

"I believe you were about to inform us on the art of pick-up lines…?"

"Oh yeah! Cool. Now lemme hear whatcha got! You!" He rounded on Cole and pointed a finger at him, "Pick-up lines! Gimme your best shot!"

Cole hesitated for a moment, imagining Channa in his head. It wasn't hard since she had been in the room a moment ago. "I just wanted to say…" He said in the sweetest, most emotional voice he could muster, "That you're the most beautiful thing I ever—"

"Too sappy. Next!" Hip pointed at Jack.

Jack just sat there, sweating bullets, his face twisting into a constipated expression. "Um…um…!"

"Too slow." Hip said, looking disgusted. "Who else?"

"I've got one!" Al declared.

"Then hit me." Hip said, impatiently crossing his arms.

"I actually tried this on a lady once," Al said smoothly, running both hands through his wiry hair, "I said 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven?'"

Hip groaned and rolled his eyes. "That's not clever _or _original. What'd she say?"

Al frowned as the memory reestablished itself within his mind. "Eh. She wanted to know if it hurt when I smashed my face in. But I don't really get it, my face ain't smashed…"

Hip let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! See, that's what I'm looking for. You have to be clever and quick on your feet if you want to flirt the right way. It takes some practice. I used to rely on those awful pick-up lines in the dark days…" Hip gave a sad shake of his head, "But now look at me! See how far I've come?"

"You're occupying your allotted leisure time with an assemblage of wannabe 'players' instead of genuine females. A long way indeed…" Seth stated dryly.

"Hey, I'm doing this for _you_." Hip growled. "Now shut it or I'll make you wear the dunce cap. Anyways, I'm going to split you into pairs so you can work on your banter. I'm also going to assign one of you as leadman and the other as wingman. We'll discuss the importance of this later."

"I brought my own wingman!" Al announced, leaping to his feet and motioning to Wiley. Wiley sunk down in his seat, looking embarrassed.

Hip smirked and nodded approvingly. "I'm impressed. Way to be prepared!" He turned to the rest of the class. "Pair up!"

Seth and Jack, both being socially inept District 3 boys, found one another. Jarek flounced over to Cole who happily welcomed him. That left Saffron and Hapi.

"I refuse to be with this half-blooded feral!" Saffron said, whipping around and eyeing the redheaded Asian with distaste.

"The feeling is mutual." Hapi said, glowering at his mortal enemy.

"Deal with it," Hip said, passing out a handout full of pick-up lines. "Now, the wingman should always be the lesser of the two men. Saffron, you're a wingman."

Saffron glared daggers at his teacher. "How dare you!" He cried out.

Hapi let out a low chuckle.

"Can I be the leadman?" Cole asked Jarek.

"Sure!" Jarek said cheerfully, "I'll help you in any way that I can! Just like I always help Kalin! Until he tells me to stop, anyways."

"_You _be the leadman." Jack told Seth, "I don't think I could handle it."

"Affirmative." Seth said in a superior tone, looking pleased.

"Okay…" Hip said, pacing in front of the chalkboard, "Now, most people seem to think that the wingman is the guy who occupies the uglier girl so the leadman can nab the hot one. But I like to think the wingman is there to make the leadman look good. The wingman should be obnoxious and unappealing. When he's done his duty, he should get lost and let the leadman take over from there. Commit this to memory: take one for the team so your buddy can live the dream."

"I have a question…" Wiley said, fidgeting in his chair a bit, "Can you ever go from being a wingman to a leadman?"

"Of course you can, but you can't do it around the same chicks. You gotta be consistent." Hip declared with a nod.

He gave the groups some free time to think up skits and discuss tactics. While they did so, Hip spaced out, dreading that Channa would outdo him. _But she doesn't even have a class together yet! _He scowled inwardly, _Where's she going to find a bunch of boy-crazy girls in such a short time span…?_

"Hey Hip!" Channa poked her head inside quite suddenly, silencing all of the conversations with her presence. "How many people are in your class? Eight?"

"Yeah, that's right…" Hip said, feeling suspicious.

Channa gave a light laugh. "Great! That's how many girls I rounded up. See you later!" A multitude of girlish laughing reached his ears, confirming that Channa had already managed to find a bunch of boy-crazy girls in a short time span. Just as he had feared.

As the day progressed, Hip grew increasingly nervous. He soon came to realize that he wouldn't be able to put his money where his mouth was—his students were more incompetent than he could have known. They were absolutely hopeless.

Cole's arsenal only seemed to boast of cheesiness and overly emotional suck-upishness. Was that a word? Anyways, if he ever managed to get a girl whilst acting like a pansy, she was going to walk all over him. He was the definition of whipped; yet he was still single!

Seth, meanwhile, could have used some of Cole's emotions. Hip got a headache just listening to his range of vocabulary. It wasn't impressive; it was annoying. God bless any girl that could put up with it for more than five seconds.

Al…at least he was trying. But that's all he had going for him. No matter how much Hip lectured him, he seemed set on using his cheesy pick-up lines. He was actually making the skittish Wiley look pretty good with his fail-womanizing actions. And that was saying something, because Wiley wouldn't know he was being flirted with if it came up and bashed him in the skull with a sledgehammer.

As for the rest…Jarek didn't even seem like he belonged here. Everything about him suggested that he hadn't gone through puberty, so why be here if you didn't feel that way about girls yet? And Hapi was coming off way too creepy. Hip secretly hoped that he would warm up when the girls were brought in, but it seemed highly unlikely. Hapi would scare the girls right out the door. Which actually wouldn't be such a bad thing…

_Who am I forgetting? _Hip wondered. _Oh, yeah. Saffron. I should just fail him right now._

Suddenly, someone tapped his shoulder. Hip let out a short yell of surprise and whirled around to find Hapi standing behind him.

Hapi just grinned. "…Someone's at the door."

"Y…you could have just…get back to your seat!" Hip stammered, feeling flustered.

Hapi shrugged and walked back to his desk beside Saffron, who was leering at their newest guest. It just so happened to be…

"Ian!" Hip exclaimed, "Thanks for coming! Everyone, this is our guest speaker for today."

Ian stood in the doorway, turning his nose up at the state of the room. And the people it contained. "What on earth happened here? You expect me to _teach _in this dump?"

Hip gritted his teeth, feeling annoyed. _If I have to do it, so should you! _"Let's all give him a warm welcome." He said, trying to look friendly.

A few students awkwardly clapped. "You're late!" Jack accused, to which Hip told him to shut up. He had worked hard to get Ian to come in and he didn't need some idiot chasing him off.

Flipping his hair, Ian made his way to the front of the room. "Very well. I suppose it's time I shared my secrets with the world. Today I will discuss how to woo any woman you desire and how to get out of relationships with ease. Remember, you drop the relationship when you start to have feelings for the girl. Get out before you can't."

Hip, who was now seated at a desk, frowned slightly. "That's not right." He interrupted, "You get out when the girl starts to have feelings for _you_."

Ian gave a light laugh. "No, that's ridiculous. Otherwise you're never going to get laid. You stay in the relationship until _you_—"

"I disagree. It's so much more fun if you cut it off right after they confess their feelings." Hip said bluntly, "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Ian shot a nasty glare at the younger boy, nose wrinkling in distaste, "_I _don't know what I'm talking about? I'm supposed to be the esteemed guest speaker, aren't I?"

"You're supposed to be, but I'm quickly starting to doubt that." Hip said, egging Ian on with a small smirk.

Ian glowered at Hip for another moment. Then he straightened up and gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine! Then I guess my genius is no longer needed here…"

"Wait!" Jarek cried out, trying to scribble down some more notes, "This is good stuff! Please come back!"

But Ian was already storming out the door, or lack of one. Hip sat there, stunned. "What have I done?!" He cried out, "I just chased off the one man who could save you all from a lifetime of loneliness!"

"Yes, well done." Saffron said sarcastically.

"Eh, we got this!" Al said, waving a hand casually.

"Are you kidding me?" Hip let out a slightly hysterical laugh, "You've got _nothing_—"

"Hello Hip. Are you ready for us?"

Channa's voice made Hip freeze on the spot. She peeked around the corner, her brown hair falling down in waves. It looked nicer than it had before, somehow.

"Um…sure, come on in, I guess." Hip said nervously.

Smirking, Channa stepped inside the room to reveal that she had changed into a sparkling white, low-cut dress that hugged her body provocatively. She strolled in with a line of girls following her; all of them wore beautiful dresses, some seductive, some pretty and modest. Even Isaac had changed into a suit.

Hip let his eyes range over the girls, recognizing each one of them. Julia, Chat, Spark, Adrenaline, Scarlet, Amara, and Thimble had all signed up for Channa's class. He was shocked to see a handful of them, thinking they had no interest in romantic endeavors.

"Wow." Channa said, looking disapprovingly at Hip's ragtag group of students. "I thought you said you were ready for us."

"We weren't aware that this had suddenly become a beauty pageant!" Hip shot back. "But if they're not good enough for you, I don't mind taking all of you out to dinner…except Isaac, of course." He put on his best pair of puppy dog eyes, but it went unnoticed.

"No, no. I want to see what they've learned." Channa said, smiling as if she had already won, "How should we do this?"

"I guess just pair up with who you want…" Hip said dryly, looking disgruntled.

"No, we're making this fun! Boys, push the chairs and desks to the side so there's plenty of space. Ladies…" Channa conjured up a number of bejeweled sleep masks and began passing them out.

"Where did you get those?" Hip wondered.

"They were in the free gift bags given to those who signed up." Channa said smugly, "Beauty sleep is very important. Did you give _your _students any presents, Hip?"

"No, he didn't!" Al drawled, "Hey man, where's our presents?!"

"You don't deserve any presents!" Hip snapped.

"Wow, Channa…" Cole said dreamily, "You're so amazing."

"I know." She tossed her hair arrogantly. "Is everyone ready? We're going to partner up now, but we're going to make it a little fun. Ladies, you wander around the room and latch on to the man of your heart's desire-or wherever your feet lead you, anyways. But be careful. You wouldn't want to wind up with _that_." She pointed at Jack.

Jack seemed to wither as everyone focused his or her gaze on him. Hip was too annoyed to give his student a confidence boost, and walked to the side of the room to sit on a desk and pout. The girls quickly put on their sleep masks while the boys stood, exchanging nervous glances.

"Ready, everyone? Begin!" Channa clapped her hands.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Adrenaline screeched, kicking off her heels and blindly shoving through the ranks of girls, "SAFFRON IS MINE!" She practically ran over Amara in her haste to reach him.

Saffron's blue eyes widened dramatically. He scampered to the side of the room and crawled under a desk to hide. Laughing manically, Adrenaline grabbed the nearest male specimen, which happened to be Wiley. He looked positively terrified.

Quieting slightly, Adrenaline ran her hands over his biceps. "You're not Saffron!" She hissed, shoving him away after feeling his lack of muscle.

He fell backwards into Chat, who grabbed onto him and held on. She touched his face, poking at his glasses with a finger. "Oh, it's you." She said blankly, "Well, you look smart, so why not?"

"Please don't poke my eye out." Wiley begged, wincing as Chat jabbed at his face.

Meanwhile, Julia had stumbled over to Al and caught him by the arm. He beamed; glad to have a pretty girl clinging so tightly to him.

Spark wound up going with the first boy she grabbed—Hapi. Hapi smiled a little bit and reached up to take off her mask. He removed it slowly and carefully, blushing slightly as he unmasked the pretty face underneath.

"Hello." He nearly gave her his trademark toothy grin, but decided against it at the last moment. He tried to appear mysterious instead.

Spark looked him over, feeling satisfied with her choice. Asians were smart. Maybe he could keep up with her intellect.

Scarlet was just standing there, hands out, taking tiny steps in the direction she thought she had seen Seth in. Then hands suddenly weaved into hers and held her tightly. She smiled. "Aren't I supposed to find _you_?"

"I suppose so," Seth mused, "But my way is exceedingly simpler and accurate, is it not?"

Scarlet just grinned and took off her sleep mask.

Only a few left now. Cole was trying to avoid the others, off to the side, begging Channa to be his partner. She refused, saying that she was the teacher and there were an equal number of students in their classes. While he was busy complaining, Isaac came up and grabbed Cole's arm, murmuring a quiet apology as he did so.

Cole nearly wailed with dismay, "I wanted to be with Channa!"

"Oh, it's not like we're forcing you to kiss. You're just practicing to see who was better-trained." Channa huffed.

"But now everyone's going to ship us." Cole said tearfully.

"FOUND YOU!" Adrenaline's deranged screech pierced the room. She had managed to locate Saffron's hiding spot, even while blind. Now she had a firm grip on his ankles and was yanking him out from under the desk. He clawed at the floor for some kind of hold, but it was no use.

"Curse you, Rush!" He hissed, as she pulled him to his feet and wrapped her arms around him.

"My partner!" She squealed, bouncing up and down, her hold on Saffron so tight that he had no choice but to bounce with her.

Thimble, meanwhile, had been standing in the same place the entire time, feeling awkward. Jarek didn't want to be with Amara since he saw her as a sister figure, and bounded over to Thimble to claim her. Besides, they were close in age. Thimble was less than thrilled when she discovered whom her partner was, hoping that Al would have come to claim her. She enjoyed their time together and watching his failed attempts at being funny.

The last duo to unite was Jack and Amara (who had been hindered by Adrenaline running over her earlier). Hip and Channa quickly set the desks up in two rows, across from each other. It was like some weird speed-dating event.

Al and Julia were nearest so Hip so he couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Why don't you sit down?" Al said, motioning to the chair across from him, "Your legs must be really tired."

"Oh!" Julia said, looking slightly flustered as she took a seat, "Not really."

"Well that's strange. Because you've been runnin' through my mind all day."

_Doesn't he learn anything…? _Hip thought, annoyed.

But then, much to his surprise, Julia burst out laughing. "Oh my gosh, you are hilarious!" She said, throwing a hand over her blushing face.

"There's more where that came from!" Al declared proudly, "Anyways, what's your name, huh?"

"Julia." She said, offering her hand.

"I'm Al. And may I say you are positively AL-luring." He said, shaking it.

Julia waved a hand. "Oh, stop it you! You're the one named Al, _you're _AL-luring!" She snorted and dissolved into another round of laughter.

Al beamed.

_Beginner's luck. _Hip thought, moving on to the next couple, _All of the others will probably crash and burn._

Wiley was a stammering mess while talking to Chat. She looked bored, leaning her chin on her hand while the he prattled on senselessly. But then, out of the blue, Al leaned into the conversation and started including Chat in his pick-up jokes. Julia didn't look any less entertained, but Chat looked extremely annoyed.

"Excuse me?" She said, shooting a look at Al, "But are you my partner?"

Wiley remembered Hip's speech about being a leadman. But he had only ever served as a wingman…could he take the initiative? He swallowed nervously and told Al, "Yeah, what do you think you're doing, mate? Talk to your own girl." Then he turned back to Chat, saying, "So tell me about yourself, love."

Chat looked at him with a little more respect after he told Al off. She liked a guy who wouldn't take a lot of crap. But little did she know, the two guys were in cahoots. And Wiley was always taking crap. From everyone.

The next pair was Hapi and Spark, who were actually hitting it off quite well. Spark told him about her love of literature and he shared with her his taste in music. They both could show an appreciation for Shakespeare as well as Mozart.

"You know, it's nice to talk to someone with a brain." Spark said, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"It's nice to just find someone who will talk to me." Hapi stated with a small chuckle.

Spark stared at him. "What do you mean no one talks to you?"

"I suppose they find me intimidating."

"Ha!" Spark rolled her eyes, "Then those people are idiots."

Hip felt annoyed to see Scarlet and Seth were getting on brilliantly as well. Then he thought to himself, _Hold up…my students are succeeding after all! I should be happy! _Grinning, he paused to listen in.

"I don't know why I bother talking to you!" Scarlet said, pouting, "You always shoot down everything I say."

_Oh. Never mind. _Hip thought, settling back to watch the action. He always loved a good show of drama.

"I was not aiming to offend you personally. I just believe it's unethical to base your life on aspects of a personality determined by the stars."

"Zodiac signs are fun!" Scarlet argued, "You need to have a little more fun in your life, Seth."

Seth shrugged, looking unconcerned. "If you insist. Perhaps you can assist me, in this fun-seeking…?"

Scarlet smiled. "I would love to."

While they continued with their love-hate relationship, Hip moved on to see the couple having the most issues of all. As soon as Adrenaline had sat down across from Saffron, she leaned forward eagerly and said, "So! Wanna go to the bathroom and make out now?"

"What?" Saffron said, eyes narrowing. "…Aren't you in a relationship?"

Adrenaline grabbed his hands in hers and held on tight. "I'm _great _at multitasking." She said in a breathy whisper.

Saffron ripped his hands away. "You're far from being worthy of me, mongrel."

"Good job, Saffron." Hip said, passing by, "I always knew you would fail."

Saffron smacked at his forehead with his hand. "Arrgh! Why don't you try being in my position, you fool? Then you would know how difficult this is!"

"Not now," Hip said, distracted by Thimble and Jarek's performance. When he wasn't talking about himself, Jarek was holding his notes, trying really hard to act like Hip.

"You're really annoying," Thimble stated flatly, "Why don't you actually talk to me instead of reading lines off your notes constantly?"

Jarek ignored her, scanning his paper. "Oh! Well, that's just one of my many personality traits that make me amazing." He tried to wink, but his eye just twitched oddly.

Thimble slouched in her seat, grumbling to herself. She glanced down the line to where Al was. He and the girl he had been paired with were laughing up a storm. _How obnoxious._

Jack and Amara were another awkward couple, proving that not everyone was made for each other.

"I need a girl who is punctual." Jack told Amara, looking dead serious. "Being on time is very important to me."

Amara blushed slightly, avoiding Jack's gaze. "Um…well, there's actually someone I already like, so…"

Jack stared at her blankly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm just here to pick up tips." She replied, embarrassed, "I'm sorry."

Jack's heart fell. "No, it's fine. I'm sure I'll find someone else…eventually."

Last of all, Cole and Isaac were having a slightly uncomfortable conversation. Isaac was telling Cole all of his troubles with Gregory, how he liked him, but he wasn't sure how to go about it.

"I think you should just tell him how you feel." Cole suggested, "If he's really your friend, he won't hate you. I made my feelings clear to Channa and she likes me!" He motioned over to where Channa was standing. She was currently flirting with Hip. "Um, I think?"

"You give good advice, Cole." Isaac said brightly, "In fact, I think I'll tell him! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Yeah!" Cole cheered.

"Well, now what?" Channa said, standing with Hip, "They're not exactly demonstrating any of the skills we taught them, they're just kind of bonding. It's hard to judge."

Hip just stared off into space, considering her words.

"Well?" Channa said, shoving him playfully.

"Enh." Hip shrugged, "Let's just leave and call it even. But if you want…" A sly smile crept across his face, "I still don't mind going out to dinner with you."

They turned to leave, Channa saying, "Fine, but you're treating."

"Then that means I lost!"

"No it doesn't. You're the man; you have to treat."

"That's what you think!"

"You're saying you're not a man?"

"…Fine. I'm a man. I'll treat."

"That's what I thought…"

**Wasn't that a cute chapter? Sorry if your favorite character wasn't in it! Also I totally referenced some of my favorite shows. :P The little find-your-man game is from Running Man (Saffron as Kim Jong Kook what what!) and the "wanna go to the bathroom and make out now?" was from Impractical Jokers. Hahahaa I love those shows! Did you know Wiley/Chat's couple name is What? What. That cracks me up for some reason. And don't say she's 14 and he's 17, technically Wiley was 15 during the time of the 42nd. I better shut up now.  
**

**Shush…I know what you're gonna say…let's pretend Rhutter doesn't exist in this chapter. I ship Channa x Hip ;)**


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